Leather and Lace
by LadyLaufeyson1
Summary: After Thor has left Asgard indefinitely to be with Jane, the burden of the throne has fallen to Loki. Will he always be the monster everyone thinks he is or will he finally find a reason to be better? (LokixSif) (Updated 4/22/14 - This is probably going to be a novel length fic, so if it seems like it's moving slowly, it is! xoxo)
1. Burdened with Glorious Purpose

The raven haired God of Mischief slumped lazily against the gilded walls of the Allfather's bedchambers, staring blankly out at the falling leaves of the pink blossom trees in the North Gardens. His crestfallen emerald gaze held for what seemed a lifetime before he slowly crossed the room to an ancient wooden desk, laden with heavily etched carvings of the fabled Fenrir Wolf. His eyes darted across the fine wood as he traced the engravings lightly with his fingers, a pained look in his eyes. His fingers slowly found their way to a small drawer hidden in the side of the escritoire. From there he proceeded to pull out a leather bound parchment journal and quill and took to writing furiously.

_Father was right. Gods, we are not. We are born, we live and in time, we die. We search for purpose, for meaning in our lives, just as the Midgardians do. When we are in the depths of despair, we turn to those closest to us for comfort and for help; for a reason to keep struggling through those darkest hours that never seem to end, when we are so hopelessly in the thick of them. But what happens when those closest to us are no longer present?_

_As a child I was known within the halls of Asgard to be friendly, spry – even happy, despite the fact that in years to come I would be labeled as a monstrosity; feared by those who once claimed they cared for me. As time passed I realized of my own accord and not to my own surprise that I was indeed different and not at all like those around me. I wasn't even of the same blood as those I considered family. As I continued my search for truth I stood many days alone in the shadow of my witless brother Thor – referred to by many as the rightful heir to the throne of Asgard. Yet here I am, and where is he? On Midgard, with his mortal. All for a petty and juvenile woman's heart. He is truly the idiotic fool I always took him for._

_Before mother died she came to visit me in my cell, informing me that one day, despite the wishes of Odin, despite the true wishes of myself, the throne would fall to me. She knew that Thor would take his place among the Midgardians to be with Jane and "he" would once again fall into the Odinsleep, perhaps indefinitely. By default, despite my treachery, I would come to rule Asgard._

_When I had helped Thor to save Jane Foster in Svartalfheim from Malekith, I feigned my death to escape a life of imprisonment and to free my brother, among others, of the burden of my being. I had grown tired of fighting to show the realms a part of me that no one saw. No one believed there was good left in me, and what good would it do to try and prove them otherwise? They would never trust me. Mother was gone. I planned to live out the rest of my days disguised in Vanaheim, and leave the weight of the throne to my alleged kinfolk. Not long after, I was drawn back to home. I hadn't believed Frigga when she informed me of her prophecies, but unfortunately, they were correct. I have returned just in time for father to fall into the Odinsleep, and for Thor to abandon his responsibility to Asgard. I truly have never been one for perfect timing, though somehow I feel, this was not by accident._

_The Allfather now sleeps soundly beneath the city in the crypts of the Valhalla. No one knows of his comatose state except for I, and perhaps Heimdall, though if aware, has yet to make that known. I have disguised myself as father for the time being until he either wakes or I figure out a way out of this misfortune. I fear he may never awaken and I may never discover the latter._

_For now, I am alone_. _Alone as always, really. This time, it is different. I do not get company aside from the incessant idiotic babbling of the warriors three, and the occasional councilman. And… her..._

A light knock came suddenly upon the door. Startled, his transfiguration was almost instantaneous. He stood, straightening himself and threw the journal into the open drawer of the desk, slamming it shut.

"Enter." He stifled.

She came in rather slowly, glancing around the door to spot him before her full entrance. Her long, tousled brunette locks gave the impression that she had been out riding, the bit in her right hand confirming it. Her iron bodice clung heavily to her chest as she breathlessly made her way across the room close to where he stood. No matter how many years had passed between them, the mere sight of her never failed to take his breath away.

"Forgive the intrusion, Allfather. I-," she said, as pink as the garden trees. Upon closer inspection, he noticed tears in her eyes. She had been crying and judging by the general state of her, it had been for quite some time.

"Sit down, Lady Sif. You are looking rather winded."

He pulled the chair hurriedly from the desk and choked back the rage in the direction of whatever had made her so upset. He had seen her like this less than a handful of times in the many years they had known each other and it never got any easier to witness.

"What seems to be troubling you, my lady?" He inquired, trying hard to steady his voice.

Her glance moved quickly from his eyes to the floor, startling him for a moment. It was as if, for a split second, he thought she might be able to see through his facade. It seemed like a lifetime before she finally answered, and even though it pained him, he suddenly realized why she was here.

"I- I'm sorry to come barging in here so unprecedented like this, but I cannot bear it any longer. I feel as though I am going mad Allfather, my heart, it has broken. I cannot speak to the others about this. I do not know if what I am saying or thinking is wrong anymore. I-I know, I know he is gone, but I cannot-," her cries turned into sobs. He stiffened. "I cannot think of it anymore."

After a few moments passed, he spoke, as kindly as possible. Even though the rage of jealousy seethed within him, easing her acute unhappiness and desolation was of far greater importance.

"Lady Sif, you are grieving for your loss. It is a natural part of existing, and we as Asgardians are not immune to the ailments of the heart."

She looked up at him with a slightly mortified and incredulous look on her face as though he had stirred up something even more deeply disturbing within her.

"You mean, you know?"

"My dear Sif, I have known for years your love for my son. I have watched you two grow together. I have seen the way you look at him, and him to you. I know you're longing for his company again, but my girl, you must know Thor is-"

"Thor?" she interjected rather quickly, her red, watery eyes squinting up at him. She searched his face frantically to find the words before responding, her mouth agape.

"Allfather I... I was referring to Loki."


	2. Demons and Daggers

The room was spinning. All of the breath in his body left him instantly at the sound of his name escaping her too beautiful mouth. At that moment, time was suddenly of no existence or matter. He could not look at her. Not like this.

"I- I am most humiliated by this forthright confession, but I felt I had no other choi-"

"You had a choice," he suddenly spat angrily at her, paying no mind to his guise. His eyes bitterly locked eyes with hers as he took several threatening steps toward her. "All of those years you could have told him, you could have cared-"

He stopped as abruptly as he had started. He couldn't believe what he was doing. He could so plainly see the despair and regret in her face as the tears fell down her flushed cheeks at his words. It overwhelmed him to see the aching she had in his eyes for him, the real him, not the man standing before her, not the brother he lived his whole life in the shadows of. She wanted him, or at least, she did at one point. He longed to hold her, to break down the barrier between them. He felt like the fly on the wall in a room he had longed to be in his whole life.

She had looked slightly unwell since Thor's absence, but the intense anguish on her face now was foreign; it was nothing he had ever seen. There were some nights he secretly watched over her, making sure she did not drink herself to death in the taverns, but he was certain the cause of her woe was his brother. He found himself starting to reach for her as she looked away, wanting to brush the tears from her face and sweep his thumb across her lips. _It's me, Sif,_ his eyes said and his broken heart screamed, but he could not bring himself to reveal his true self. She could not harbor feelings for him, it was impossible. She was everything good about the nine realms, and he was everything wrong with it. No, she did not care for him. This was some sort of scheme.

"I should not have come," she whispered, eerily calm, a look of intent suddenly crossing her mournful eyes. "I am sorry to have burdened you with my petty troubles when you are still grieving so many losses yourself."

He watched her longingly as she hastily stood from her chair, grabbing the bit from the floor at her side. She looked out of it. She glanced around the room frantically as though she were momentarily lost or had somewhere else to be. As she made a quick path for the door, he spoke, and she reluctantly turned, uneasily meeting his eyes once more.

"Lady Sif, I-" He muttered softly, trying to lessen the blow he had just unintentionally delivered. It was of no use.

"Allfather - I am deeply sorry. For everything," she said, bowing mechanically at him. Before he could say another senseless word, she was gone.

The heavy sound of the door closing behind her was the equivalent to the sound of a thousand flails striking his heart all at once, but the silence of the room where she had just been was the loudest noise of all. What was this trickery? She must have known it was him. Surely she and the warriors were trying to oust him from the throne. They sent her in to deliver the final blow that would inevitably break him, and it had. The game was up.

He paced the floor for many minutes, trying hard to plan his next movie. Things weren't falling into place. How could they have possibly known of his facade or even the intensity of his feelings for her? He was never obvious about them. A glimmer of hope that her confession might be real pulled too quickly at his heart before that familiar feeling of immeasurable disappointment took over; only this time, the hurt was too much to bear. Who was the one person who could always see who you truly were and reveal all that you were feeling?

"Heimdall."

The proverbial rage that lived endlessly inside of him was boiling over now. His one strength all of these years had been sheer anger that guarded him from all the endless hurt that crossed his path so frequently; it had kept him alive. They knew how to get under his skin, they knew how to hurt him- time and time again. She was the one thing they could use to finally kill him off the nine realms, and they knew it.

"FUCK!" he screamed, throwing the heavy wooden chair across the room, his face red and pained with anger, his veins protruding from his neck.

Tears of fury fell stained his cheeks. What a little actress she was! He wanted to see how good of an actress she'd still be with his hands wrapped around that pretty little neck of hers. He could break her in half so easily, and at that moment, in his anger, nothing would give him more pleasure.

As he stormed out of Odin's chambers he clambered furiously down the halls, disguising himself as a common guard, and rounded a corner out of plain sight. When he didn't find her in all the usual places, he decided to Hel with it and thundered toward her chambers, searching wide eyed for the maiden of lies in his deteriorating facade.

He reached her room breathlessly, the anger now seeping out of his every pore; tears still freshly stinging his eyes. As he started at the door, it opened slightly, revealing that she had not locked it. _Fool_, he mouthed angrily to himself. He slipped silently into the dark foyer and hid deviously behind a wide marble column, waiting for a long while in the shadows of her bed chambers.

Suddenly, he heard a muffled cry coming from the direction of her washroom. His stomach dropped. He knew precisely what she was doing, and for a very brief moment, his anger abated. All that was left was a crushing hurt.

Baldur. It must have been Baldur who was now with her. Touching her. Kissing her. Consuming every inch of her. He knew all too damn well they had shared beds before and evidently that hadn't ceased. The coward in Loki suddenly wanted nothing more than to leave and to run back to Vanaheim – to get as far away from this situation as possible, but he had come this far. They both knew of his treachery now, at least this way he could make fools out of both of them and ruin their tryst in the meantime, even though he was quite certain the sight of her fucking that imbecile would kill him.

At that moment, a louder cry emerged. There was nothing about this cry that suggested pleasure, and the sound of her agonizing wails instinctively made him run towards the door without the slightest hesitation. Still concealed as the guard, Loki flung the door open to find a scene that promptly brought him to his knees.

A barely conscious Sif lay half naked on the floor of the washroom, bleeding profusely from several places on her left arm, dagger in her right.

It appeared that Lady Sif, in all her beauty, in all her wisdom, was trying very much to die.


	3. Chapter 3 - Return to Me

"NO!" he roared, his bloodcurdling yell echoing loudly off of the stone walls of the washroom. He pulled her up onto his lap and steadied her back against his chest and then quickly ripped a nearby cloth, wrapping it tightly around her arm where the blood poured freely from several large wounds. Stripping the cloak from his back, he draped it across her barely covered figure, tucking the sides around her.

"Stupid girl, you STUPID FOOLISH GIRL," he spat, shaking her gently as his eyes flooded. "Beautiful Sif," he cried, holding her closely against him while putting heavier pressure on her bandages. He knew he needed to get up, to run and find proper help, but he couldn't leave her.

Almost instantly, she opened her eyes, though weakly, and glanced up at him in an almost trance-like state before closing them again. Her tone was tranquil but resolved and she sounded peaceful; almost happy. "I know that voice. I know that touch..."

He stiffened. "You don't know anything. You're in a state of shock."

"It is you. I know it is," she smiled, starting to nod off once more. He looked down and saw that the bandages were soaked completely through. Her blood was staining his fingertips. He carefully lifted her in his arms and brought her over to her bed, softly placing her down upon the sheets.

"Stay with me, Sif," he barked, covering her with the blankets at the foot of the bed.

Still concealed as the guard, he darted outside of her chambers to call for help. A passing handmaiden was the first to hear his cries and approached him cautiously.

"Lady Sif, she is not well. Fetch the closest healer as quickly as you can." The young girl looked startled by his declaration and stood dumbfounded for a moment. "What are you standing around staring at you daft quim? GO! NOW!"

* * *

It had been nearly an hour since the healer arrived. Loki stood, still in his concealment, outside the door of her chambers as patiently as possible.

_What in the nine realms is going on in there? _He thought, pacing back and forth. The fact that she might be somehow associated with his usurping the throne and punished for it was the only thing that kept him from currently barging in and running to her side, his guise be damned. He could be of no use, either way. She needed the best chance she could get right now, and he, as usual, was not it.

Just as he decided to enter as a handmaiden, the door creaked open, and the healer emerged. He was one of the elder healers, short, rather hunched. Loki had seen the man many times growing up, though he could not place exactly where. He approached the healer a little too eagerly, but the old man seemed to pay no mind.

"You were lucky you were there when you were – Sir – What did you say your name was?" the healer asked him frankly.

"Er – Sir – Varangot," Loki stammered, remembering the surname of one of Odin's guards from his time in his cell.

"No matter, Sir Varangot. You may have saved this young lady's life today. She sleeps now, in great need of rest, but I expect she shall fully recover," the old man replied, curiously peering up at Loki. He stared at him momentarily, almost as if he could see who he truly was. Healers, especially the elderly ones, were not so easily fooled. They saw things most did not. The thought made Loki temporarily uneasy, but his mind shot back to Sif and he dismissed the old man, thanking him profusely.

Loki opened the door and walked slowly around the bed to her side, making sure to be as inaudible as possible so as not to wake her. She was breathtaking. Absentmindedly, he stood staring, wondering how someone so captivating could do something so unspeakable. What would have caused her to fall to this state? It still wasn't true, what she had said to him in Odin's chambers, but at the moment, he could no longer be angry with her. Maybe she had lost her mind after all. Or maybe, after years of fighting some masked inner demon, she was just as tired as he was.

He pulled up a chair to the foot of the bed and sat watching her, his arms crossed firmly over his chest as if by doing so he could physically stop all of his feelings he had for her from surfacing. There he sat with his fist in his mouth, his knee bouncing nervously up and down, not taking his eyes off of her. The only thing that kept him from currently losing his mind from seeing her so broken was concentrating on the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. Knowing she was still here with him was a relief so profound that after a while he too dozed off.

Loki woke what seemed like seconds later (though it had been hours) to the sound of her stirring in the bed. He straightened in his chair as he came to, watching her movements carefully with bated breath. She groaned, as if trying to wake herself, but her body would not have it. When she began to writhe uncomfortably again, Loki prudently approached her.

"Rest now, my lady. Rest now," he whispered, crouching down down by her side. He reached over to touch her face, her soft warmth burning his icy fingertips. Her eyes made as if they wanted to open, but she sighed instead and eventually relaxed under his touch. He traced his thumb lightly over her skin, forgetting himself momentarily, touching her lips before abruptly pulling away as if he were destroying something pure just by touching it.

Suddenly, Sif reached over and caught his arm. Her eyes flew open, and she stared at the ceiling in a breathless panic, looking fixedly above her as if she had just been roused from a nightmare.

Her terrified eyes moved slowly from the top of the canopy over to where he sat beside her. He couldn't understand the look she gave him, but it was one he had not yet seen from her before. It was a look of intense relief, anger, and happiness. Her eyes began to fill with tears and she began to breathe rapidly.

"_Loki_," she whispered, searching his eyes as she cried, her hold on him tightening.

He didn't know how or why she assumed it to be him even still, but he was so transfixed by his name leaving her mouth that he didn't care. Not until, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror directly across the room. He froze.

At some point in time, Loki had transformed back into his natural state.


	4. Chapter 4 - Lavender and Springtime

His eyes flashed back to hers. He immediately stood up and backed away.

"It's really you," she rasped, feebly smiling up at him through single tears that rolled silently down her face. "You're real. How - how is it possible?"

He swallowed hard, raising his left brow arrogantly at her, but he did not turn himself back into the guard. "You are not well. You don't know what-"

"You and your tricks. And your lies. Always," she interrupted him crossly, shaking her head. Pushing herself up weakly from her resting state, she paused only when the pain became too much. He started towards her to help, but her eyes suddenly pinned him firmly with that _don't touch me or you'll wish you were never born _classic Sif look. "I know you are real now, just as I did before in the washroom. Why do you continue to make this seem like an illusion?"

Loki looked at her a long time before sighing and crouching back down beside her, putting his head in his hands. "If I told you, you'd only believe what you want to believe."

Sif cautiously reached over, as if she were about to touch a wild animal, unaware of how it would react. Her breath caught in her throat as she tentatively took a lock of his hair and twirled it gently between her fingertips. She relaxed immediately, as if touching him was suddenly the most wonderful thing in the nine realms. "I don't care. I'm only glad you are alive."

She reached over to touch his hand that was tangled back in his locks. The warmth of her skin against his startled him once more. How long had he wanted this- her hand, in his, and not by his own accord, but of hers. He closed his eyes, almost painfully, as if the touch of someone so good was burning a hole right through his miserable skin. Unable to endure something so foreign anymore, he set her hand back on the bed and darkly glanced up, his face full of hatred once more. He responded to her gentle countenance the only way he knew how; angrily and with skepticism. "Why do you lie to me? What you are saying now, what you said to me back in Odin's chambers I-"

"I _knew_ that was you! Where is the Allfather?" Sif's eyes widened. "I thought I was going mad!"

"Clearly you are mad! Look at what you've done! Lady Sif, the _great warrior princess,_" he yelled in disgusted disbelief, standing to pace around the bed, arms pinned behind his back. Without a doubt, he was mustering all the anger he had within him in an unsurprising attempt to mask his true emotions."Look at the state of you now."

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD!" she screamed, sitting up on her elbows, matching his rage with ease. The blood drained from her cheeks. Suddenly, it was clear to Loki that she was recalling the memory of his feigned demise, and the look on her face made his stomach turn with self-loathing. It was at that very moment he knew, for the first time ever, that she did care for him.

"Sif, I -," he started toward her, but she raised a hand to silence him.

"_Don't_," she said angrily, pointing for him to sit down in the nearest armchair and listen to her. Her eyes were laden with heavy fatigue and sadness. "I'm tired. I do _not_ give a damn how angry you are with me, or what you've done, or how it is you're even standing here before me, but _do not _believe my sentiments insincere. I realize I am rather unstable and clearly I do not know much of anything anymore," she said, using her unscathed arm to lift the covers away from her body, swinging her legs swiftly over the edge of the mattress. Before he could stop her, she was up and standing before him, steadying herself against the edge of the bed. She crouched down on her knees in front of where he now sat, forcing him to look down at her. "I only know that I have _begged_ the Gods to bring you back to me. And here you are."

The sight of her in front of him now was comparable to the mid-summer sun of Asgard, for he could not look at her directly. She was blinding in her all of her beauty and close enough to burn him. The short, cream-colored lace robe she wore hugged her striking figure, leaving very little unexposed. Her heavy dark locks fell chaotically across her chest, covering her breasts where they otherwise would have been bared to him through her transparent negligee. His eyes flickered to her wounded arm which had almost healed entirely, cursing himself silently for causing her harm and all the while acting like a damned fool. It wasn't that he didn't believe her now, it was the fact that he didn't deserve her. She always was his achilles heel; his only true weakness. Now she was broken, and he was the cause. The irony was too much for him.

She suddenly stood and moved closer to him, her stomach inches from his face. Her head cocked to one side and she studied him closely, seriously, as her fingers brushed a strand of his hair away from his eyes. Running the fingers of both hands delicately through the slicked back locks of his mane, she drew him in closer until she could feel his heavy breath against her abdomen. His hands moved slowly, magnetically to her thighs as he buried his face in the soft fabric of her robe. The intoxicating smell of lavender and springtime invigorated his senses and he found himself in the middle of a dream he never wanted to wake from. _Curse the fabric between my lips and her skin_, he thought to himself. As much as he wanted to rip the garment from her body, to take her as she was now, he wanted to savor every small thing about her much, much more. She was not a bar maiden or concubine. She was a delicate flower, rarer than the convergence. She was, and always had been, the very center of his universe. What stood in front of him now was no longer the tempestuous maiden he fought with and against, but a woman whom he had ached for his entire life.

Sif reached down and pulled him up to her where they stood, facing him. She began helping him out of his layers, leather upon more leather, until he was bare chested, his raven hair a disheveled mess. He moved closer into her, his hands moving from her thighs up to her waist, his stomach brushing against hers. She stood on her tip toes to try and match his height and her forehead fell gently against his. They stared at one another, searching each other's eyes for what felt like forever before he slowly backed her up towards the bed, his hand tracing the small of her back.

"Loki?"

"Yes?" he whispered, barely audible, his lips inches from hers. He instinctively cupped her face with his hand and began stroking her cheek gently with his thumb.

"Kiss me," she breathed, looking up into his blue eyes in the soft glow of the evening light.

At the sound of her request, he tilted her chin up towards him and placed his aching mouth fervently upon hers. Her lips were wet, warm, like biting into a ripened peach heated by the sunshine. She leaned into him further, wrapping her arms around his neck, desperate to prolong the moment she had truly waited forever for.

Carefully laying her down on the bed, his mouth not leaving hers for a moment, he took her unscathed arm and placed her hand over his heart so she could feel, if she couldn't already see, exactly what she was doing to him. He knew, in this moment, he would never kiss another woman for the rest of his days. _There was only her, there was only ever her…_


	5. Chapter 5 - Confessions

All of the sudden, without warning, they heard a faint knock upon the door. Immediately, the chamber door creaked open and the two glanced up to find Baldur standing wide-eyed and livid in the far corner of the room.

"You filthy WHORE," he suddenly shouted angrily, the look on his face murderous. Immediately, he started after them.

Loki had shape-shifted back into the guard so quickly that in the dim light of the room, Baldur did not notice it was him. His eyes were fixated on Sif now, the rage on his face clearly intended for her. Before Loki had time to react, Baldur crossed the room and grabbed her by her wounded arm, throwing her hard onto the ground. Under normal circumstances, Sif would have certainly held her own against him, for Loki had seen it before, but she was currently in such a feeble state that at the moment it was not possible.

There had been times in the past where Loki had been plenty angry with Baldur, but nothing came close to the rage that now burned within his veins upon seeing him handle Sif so violently. He caught him firmly by the throat and dragged him, pinning him hard against the wall.

"And who are you, _friend_?" Baldur spat between gasps of air. Loki's grip remained tight around his neck as though he was perfectly fine with killing him on the spot.

"_One_," he spoke calmly, eerily, holding up the pointer finger of his free hand pensively to his mouth. An insane laugh suddenly emerged from his lips and his eyes burned brightly. "If you ever refer to the Lady Sif as a 'whore' again I will, essentially, cut off your man parts and feed them to you."

Baldur struggled uncomfortably, his eyes carefully regarding Loki's. _There is something strangely familiar about that tone of voice_, he thought briefly before his primary need for air took over.

"_Two_," Loki whispered, his eyes darkening, his face moving closer to Baldur's. "If you lay a hand on her again, your lack of man parts will be the least of your worries. DO- NOT- TOUCH- HER-." He emphasized through clenched teeth, slamming Baldur's head against the wall with each word.

"Stop, please-," Sif begged him, pulling herself up weakly from the floor. "No more. You're killing him."

"Am I?" he said smiling, pleased with himself, not taking his eyes away from Baldur's. The man was turning blue and yet Loki remained murderously steadfast.

Sif slowly made her way to where the two men stood. She was frightened by Loki now, disturbed by how quickly he could go from the man she was just with to the man standing before her now, though she was not entirely shocked by it. She knew him well, she knew who he was, and the things he had done. Somehow, to her, none of it mattered. But she wouldn't have any more red on his ledger.

"Stop," she whispered, gently putting her hand on Loki's grasp. "Come back to me…"

The touch of her hand instantly loosened his grip and Baldur fell exasperatedly to the floor with a loud thud. Grabbing him by the collar, Loki dragged him heavily towards the door and out into the hall.

"Remember my words, _friend,_" Loki whispered heatedly, slamming him once more against the wall, pointing his finger inches away from Baldur's face. "Make yourself scarce."

Baldur lay on the cold cobblestone floor of the cloister somewhere between a dream and consciousness. For a moment, before blacking out, he could have sworn the ghost of Loki Laufeyson had just appeared before him.

* * *

"Are you alright?" Loki said as he stepped back into Sif's room, changing fully back into himself.

"Yes."

After pausing for a moment, he spoke, gesturing towards the door, his brows furrowed.

"You might want to change the locks…"

Sif's serious demeanor broke and she chuckled timidly, relieved to find him in a bit of a softer state.

He stood for a minute, looking down at his hands. His mischievous sneer diminished at her laugh and all that was left was a heavy sadness in his eyes. She hadn't noticed how exhausted he had looked until now, as if the events of the past day were starting to profoundly wear on his already fragile psyche.

"Do you - desire him?" Loki spoke, his remark more of a statement than a question. Either way, he was fairly certain it was an inquiry he did not want an answer to.

"No," she interjected quickly, shaking her head vehemently. She walked over to him and reached up to stroke the frown off of his rough, cool face.

"You two must have gotten rather close," he stated coldly, gently removing her hand and placing it back at her side. "If he's entering your bedchambers so freely, it's clear that he was more than just a casual fuck."

"Loki, stop it," she said sternly, her gaze falling in embarrassment, hurt by his rejection of her touch but hurt much more by his words. Crossing the room to her window seat, she sat, staring out the diamond leaded panes, trying to hide her grief. She pulled her knees into her chest and closed her eyes, holding on to her wounds.

"After your death I was quite unwell, to say the least," she paused, taking a deep breath before continuing."The only thing that kept me alive was the hope that you might return, as you did even after the Bifrost was split-"

Loki scoffed at her. "As a monster."

Sif continued, ignoring his bitter remark. "As rumors spread that your body was found, I- I was lost. I knew once Thor had permanently returned to Midgard, you were truly gone. I spent every night drinking in the tavern with Baldur and the warriors three until I nearly found myself in a permanent state of intoxication. Drinking was the only time I saw you anymore," she swallowed, tears flowing freely now. Her voice was unsteady. "Sometimes you'd be there, in the dark corners of the tavern or in the cloisters near the gardens. There were times I was certain you sat by my side, making certain I didn't drink myself to death. I-" Sif stopped suddenly, a wave of realization rushing over her. "It _was_ you, wasn't it?"

Loki quietly walked over to where she sat, grabbing a blanket from her bed on his way. He sat down on the opposite end of the window seat, spreading the blanket out over her, covering any inch of exposed body that he could see, their eyes burning into one anothers. "Yes. It was me."

Her expression went from desolate to seething in a matter of seconds, and she moved across the window seat, pushing him back hard against the wall. "WHY DIDN'T YOU REVEAL YOURSELF TO ME? YOU _KNEW _HOW I SUFFERED!" she shouted at him through tears, pounding his chest relentlessly. For the first time she truly expressed herself in such a way that Loki could understand. Hateful. Angry.

It was at that moment, he did understand. He caught her very gently by her wrists, carefully avoiding her wounds and brought her forcefully into his arms. She fought only momentarily before melting into him, crying harder as she did so. He spoke softly, smoothing her hair down, rocking her gently back and forth.

"You must believe me when I tell you that I was never aware that I caused you to suffer. Naturally, I thought it had something entirely to do with Thor leaving for Midgard. How could I believe for a minute that someone so beautiful and so strong – more so, that someone I loved so dearly - could ever harbor any sort of feelings for me?"

Sif stiffened slightly against him. She looked up at him timidly. "Someone you… loved?"

He gazed down at her, holding her tighter against his chest. He brushed away a stray lock of hair from her eyes, his fingers traveling south to touch her lips. "Someone I love," he whispered, shaking his head intently. "Very dearly."

"Someone you love," she repeated, looking up into his eyes.

"Yes."

Never, in all her time of knowing him, had he ever muttered the word before. She was certain he was capable of it, but never imagined he would be saying it to her, here and now, as he was. As she was.

She sat up slowly to get a better look at him, holding the blanket around her. The realm was quiet and the moons of Asgard began to shine brightly through the beveled glass, casting a shadow upon half of each of their faces.

"Loki?"

"Yes?" he breathed calmly, delicately, watching her carefully.

She leaned into him once more, her lips bypassing his mouth, moving directly to his ear. She whispered to him, her breath warm, her lips pressed against his lobe.

"Make love to me."


	6. Chapter 6 - Safe Now

p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Loki closed his eyes at her request and turned in towards her lips, taking in the intoxicating smell of her dark tresses that were draped around him. Before he could reach up to touch them, she stood and turned to the side, releasing the blanket around her, letting it drop silently to the floor. This time the robe went with it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"He sat gawking on the window seat, immobilized by the breathtaking sight before him. Never in the whole of his life had he seen anything as beautiful as her; her porcelain skin shimmering in the moonlight, profoundly contrasted against the dark, wavy locks that fell seamlessly over her breasts./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"She slowly removed the bandages from her arm, trying to pay no mind to his neglect, revealing much smaller looking wounds than had been there earlier. The healer's magic was working. She noticed him staring, but not advancing towards her and for a brief moment, she felt rather insecure./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"He sensed her feelings of apprehension and immediately began removing layers of his heavy clothing until he was stripped down to his underclothing. /p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Sif turned to him coyly, watching him curiously while biting the nail of her right thumb. She had secretly wanted to bed with him for years, spending many nights pleasing herself to the thought. She always wondered what he looked like underneath his armor, and the man before her certainly did not disappoint. The moonlight revealed a pale, well-defined torso; strong and muscular arms. Her eyes quickly caught on to the large protuberance outlined by his undergarments. He was certainly a sight to behold./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"He sat looking up at her, not realizing the alarmingly severe gaze he was giving. emSomething was wrong, /emhe thoughtem. /emHe had been with women before, but it was as if he didn't know quite what to do. Never had he been with someone he loved. Never had someone cared for him in return and what he felt in this moment was something he himself could not understand. He wanted to touch her, to be inside of her, to feel every inch of her that which he only dreamed of ever doing but was almost afraid that the minute he touched her, as if like the rarest butterfly, she would fly away from him./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"She didn't know why he wouldn't advance upon her now, but she knew she couldn't handle any more rejection from him. She was a strong woman, stronger than many. Any man that denied her in this manner would be a fool not worth her time, and she knew this. But he was different. She didn't want him, she needed him- desperately. Maybe, she considered for a moment, he was expecting more from her. Maybe the stories told by the various whores claiming to bed with him were true - maybe she simply had to speak his language./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Slowly, carefully, she kneeled before him on the ground submissively, her head down. emPlease/em, emdon't make me beg ... because I will,/em she thought to herself./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"His heart broke as he saw the dejected look on her face and realized what she was doing and why. Immediately disregarding his own misgivings, he stood and went over to her, crouching down so they were both at eye level. Gently taking her chin in his head, he forced her to look up at him./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""You do not kneel to me," he said, his flooded eyes searching hers for amnesty./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Standing her up gently to face him, he paused briefly before proceeding. He was always so certain of everything and yet, she always had this way of making him unequivocally and uncharacteristically nervous. He reached up slowly, running his fingers delicately through her hair, pushing her locks in front behind to her back, exposing her breasts to him. He lifted her injured arm against his face, kissing the wounds as he did, his eyes not leaving hers. With his free hand, he pulled her gently into him, tracing his fingers down her spine, hovering at the small of her back./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Staring up into his gaze, into those eyes that she felt could see into the depths of her soul, she slid her hand up along his jaw and around the back of his neck, bringing his mouth hard upon hers. His lips were so wet, so soft, so gentle. It was like she had been parched for a lifetime and he was the river she had been searching for, thirsting for./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"The feel of her lips taken with his. Her warm, supple breasts against his marred, rough chest. The smell of lavender mixed with her sweet breath intoxicating each and every one of his senses. If there was a time in his life more beautiful than this, he was hard-pressed to remember it./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Her hands dug further into the back of his hair and she pushed his lips deeper into hers. He grabbed her hair harder, gently yanking her head back and fervently planting a trail of soft kisses and bites along her neck to her ear. When his lips found hers once more, her mouth parted and his tongue swiftly claimed hers, his fever for her mounting. Cupping her breasts eagerly in his hands, his thumbs rotated against her nipples while his hardness grew against her thigh./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""You are so... beautiful…," he whispered incredulously, still trying to comprehend what she was doing with him./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"With her arms still around his neck he grabbed her legs and pulled her up, supporting her so that she was wrapped around him. He carried her back to the bed and laid her down delicately upon it, proceeding to remove the last remainder of clothing from his body./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"She inhaled at the size of him in the moonlight, completely awestruck by his physique. He was perfection. emThis can't be happening…/em she thought. emIf this be a dream, Gods, please don't let me wake…/em/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"She sat up eagerly on her elbows, her wounds be damned, and parted her legs for him. He could hardly believe the sight before him as he carefully positioned himself on top of her. This goddess, this angel, who he had pined for his entire life, wanted him. The God of Mischief. Lord of Lies. Fallen son of Odin. It was blasphemy, he thought./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"She saw the fear and apprehension mixed with need in his eyes. Her hand found his and she squeezed, reassuring him, showing him that she wanted him. He lowered his head slowly to her chest and planted his lips between her breasts, his hair dragging lightly against her nipples. A warm shudder rushed through her and her hands clamped down on his back as she pulled him as close to her as possible./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Take me now," she whispered breathlessly, her body physically aching for him. "Loki, take me now, I need you…"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"At the sound of her heady request, his hand grasped her hair and he thrust himself smoothly, deeply, into her moist warmth. She let out a blissful moan of relief and elation as he filled her, completing her, completing the part of her that had been missing forever. He groaned deeply, closing his eyes, throwing back his head in breathtaking bliss. The way she felt around him, the way he felt in her. There was nothing more perfect, nothing more right, and in that moment the two of them realized the extent of what they had been missing these many years. If the planets weren't aligned before this, they certainly were now, for nothing in all of the nine realms had ever been more intended, more fated than the convergence of these two./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"She moved, rolling over him, taking her place on top of him. Steadying herself with one hand on his chest, the other deep within his hair, she pushed his head back onto the mattress, riding him fervently as he touched her. His hands clawed at her thighs, pulling her into him, faster and faster, more heatedly and more passionately with each passing moment. It was as if the carnal flood gates he had been trying so hard to keep closed had burst open, inadvertently and unapologetically./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"He threw her off of him, flipping her over and pulled her legs greedily up to meet him. Grabbing her hair he pulled it back towards him, his free hand finding her nub as he took her hard from behind. She was in complete wonder at being taken by him in such a raw form and it wasn't long before her climax grew. As he felt her walls tightening around him and heard her breath quickening, he flipped her over once more and found her lips. Thrusting deeply yet more sensually now, he felt his own pleasure approaching./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Come for me, my love. Come now…," he whispered in the dark, holding her against him as she arched her back up off the bed./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"His command was her unraveling, and her unraveling was his. She closed her eyes, calling his name out into the night as he came into her, crying out in sheer unrestrained ecstasy. They collapsed breathlessly into each other's arms, panting and sweating profusely, tears falling freely from their eyes. The release he felt from giving her pleasure and from her giving herself to him was a new emotion, one both irrefutably beautiful and completely overwhelming./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"He lay silently against her chest as he reached for her hand, listening to the sound of her heartbeat until it lulled him to the edge of sleep's hold. He had never been so happy in his entire life. The heavy, emotional events of the day were finally catching up to both of them./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""I love you...," she whispered quietly to him, feeling completely at ease./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Hearing her words somewhere in between sleep and awake, Loki squeezed her hand./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Sif looked down at the man in her arms, blissfully happy for the first time in her existence. She stroked his hair tenderly and rubbed his back, vowing that whatever it was he had done or whatever trouble he was in, she would let no further pain come to him. /p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"She held him tighter against her./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;" /p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""You're safe now."/p 


	7. Chapter 7 - Nightmares

p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"That night in his dreams, Loki relived a harrowing memory of when he was young- no more than ten years of age. He was laughing, racing Thor in the meadow to the edge of the forest. Failing to heed their mother's incessant warning of staying clear of the woods, the two boys approached the forest regardless, completely out of breath./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Beat you, embrother. /emI'm getting a bit bored of winning all of the time!" Loki bragged between gasps of air, his hands on his knees./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""You emshape-shifted/em again, you cheat!" Thor shoved him, knocking him over onto the ground./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Loki laughed and laid on the grass, hands behind his head, smiling smugly up at his brother. "It's not my fault I'm infinitely more clever than you are."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Before Thor had a chance to retort, they heard branches snapping behind them. They turned simultaneously to find a black cloaked figure suddenly emerging from the woods, its face hidden well in the dense shadow of its hood./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"em"Freyja…" /emLoki exhaled, awestruck by the creature that now stood before him. Thor ran quickly away, yelling for his brother to follow, but Loki remained steadfast, though fully alarmed./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Why do you not run, emso/ememn of Odin?" /emthe figure asked slowly, eerily, peering down at him with nothing but two piercing blue eyes through darkness./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Freyja was an ancient asgardian seeress who every so often would appear before those she felt were somehow in need of her abysmal prophecies. She was not a benevolent goddess by any means, and not beautiful despite many midgardian legends claiming otherwise. She was a monster- a wicked daughter of magic, unlike Frigga- whose prophecies continuously brought chaos and conflict to the nine realms./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""It is not emyou/em men fear, only your words," he replied bravely, but cautiously./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""I see, young prince of Asgard," she spoke, crouching down to meet him at his eye level. She removed her hood before him, revealing a hideously skeletal face, sunken eyes and rotting cheekbones. The few strands of blonde hair stretched across her balding head like pieces of decomposed straw and the stench of her was nauseating. It appeared to Loki as though she had died and been dragged out deep from the depths of Hel. "And do you not emfear/em words?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Loki swallowed hard, trying to bravely look her in the eyes but he was suddenly paralyzed by her ghastly figure./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Freyja cocked her head and smiled at him, her teeth crooked and yellow, her mouth gaunt. "You and I are not so different, Loki "/em/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""You mean- by our gifts of sorcery-," he gulped, shifting uncomfortably./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""]It is not my right to tell you who you truly are. You will know in time. You are very much the spawn of misfortune and ill luck. Things you love will die. Anything that loves you will prematurely meet its end. In time, you will know what a monstrosity you are -," her voice became less and less calm and more threatening as she stood, hovering over him, coming closer with each word. Loki's eyes widened tearfully as she encroached upon him, spewing these mere "words" that stung like a thousand knives./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"At that moment, Frigga appeared out of thin air and grabbed her son by the hand, fleeing swiftly with him away from woods./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""SOMEDAY YOU WILL FIND ME AGAIN, emPRINCE OF ASGARD/em," the malevolent seeress yelled ominously, lingering at the edge of the forest. Sshe could not cross the borders beyond it. "SOMEDAY YOU WILL WANT TO KNOW-"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""SILENCE WITCH!" Frigga turned and yelled, her eyes burning, flames suddenly lighting the path between where the two opponents stood. Loki had never seen his mother look so angry before, which only added well to his fear. At the sight of the flames coming towards her, the völva disappeared quickly into the woods, her dark figure quickly dissipating into deranged wails of laughter./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"His mother turned to him and crouched down, holding him close to her. "My darling boy, I've told you plenty of times to stay far from the forest…"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""How did you find me?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""I emalways /emknow where you are, my little wizard," she smiled, touching him briefly on the tip of his nose. "But this time, it was Thor. He got to me faster than my own mind, if you can believe it."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Mother," Loki looked at her thoughtfully. "What am I? Why does the seeress say such horrible things about me?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Frigga looked carefully at him, holding back tears as she did so. Her hand pushed back a stray lock of his raven hair and she leaned forward to kiss him gently on the forehead. "Loki Odinson, you are a beautiful boy, emmy/em beautiful boy. Frejya has a strong dislike for our family. Anything she can say to try and hurt us, she will. You are too young to have to have been exposed to such a wretch. For that, I am sorry. But you mustn't speak of this again, for no good shall come of it. Do you understand?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Loki nodded, his mother's words comforting him. A boy of ten was not to be bothered by such dreadful matters. There were more important things on the agenda, like beating his brother in archery or seeing how long he could sit up in a tree and peg Sif with fruit before she took notice and threatened to beat him up./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Returning to the North Garden's, he found Thor and Sif playing by one of his favorite trees – an ancient willow he liked to run to and hide under whenever Odin was angry with him. Loki hid from them at first, picking up pebbles along the way to taunt them with. When he looked up, they were both gone, but he still heard the sound of their laughter beneath the curtain of the heavy branches./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"When he ran underneath the tree to find them, Thor was nowhere to be found. Instead, Sif lay motionless on the ground; above her stood the familiar dark, hooded figure./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?" Loki screamed, rushing to her side. "SIF! LADY SIF! WAKE UP, WAKE UP!" he cried, shaking her vigorously. "MOTHER! THOR! HELP, SOMEONE PLEASE HELP!"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""It is not what I have done to her, Loki emLaufeyson/em. It is what emyou/em have done to her," the figure replied chillingly./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""NO! SIF! PLEASE! PLEASE WAKE UP! SIF! SIF!"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Something was physically shaking Loki now. From somewhere, he heard a familiar voice./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""LOKI! I'M HERE! LOKI! LOKI WAKE UP!"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Loki's eyes flew open and he shot straight up. Sweat poured down from his face onto his chest, his heart racing, eyes wide. It took him a moment to realize he was back in Sif's bed, and she was safely next to him. Once he did he sighed heavily, his knees pulled up to his chest, his face in his hands./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""What- happened?" She asked, cautiously touching his back./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"He flinched then calmed at her soft, tranquil touch. Running his hands from his tear and sweat soaked face through his slicked back hair, he laid back down beside her, pulling her up close against his chest./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Bad dream, I suppose." He replied, brow furrowed, smoothing her hair down and tracing his thumb along her jawline. He didn't want to get into what he had just relived from his childhood, though the message to him was quite clear. Even though the latter part of it never occurred, the prophecies were rather accurate. Dreams did not come often to Asgardians, and when they did, they almost always meant something. Intense sadness and dread washed over him, and Sif immediately knew there was something he was not telling her. In fact, she knew there were several things./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""By the way," she said, changing the subject from one seemingly dark matter to another. "Where emis /emthe Allfather?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Loki sighed and began the vexing task of explaining in detail the things they had not yet discussed, but which were looming inevitably. Not even the magic of the previous night could spare them from the sunlight blinding them through the windows, reminding them all too soon of the harshness of their realities./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""I should have come to you earlier," she said desolately. "I should have made my affections known. Maybe none of this would have happened. Maybe then you wouldn't have-"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Killed all of those people on Midgard?" He sadly interjected. "No, my darling. I'm not sure it would have saved me, even then. The Tesseract, once in my hands, possessed a power unlike any other. I never once had it – it only had me. What happened on Midgard I have very little memory of doing. I know what I've done. I am reminded every day, every minute. I know I do not deserve to live, and there is no excuse good enough for my behavior. I've wanted to end it every moment since. But what happened down there was not me, in my heart of hearts I know this, and trying to explain it to anyone who has never had an infinity stone within their grasp is fruitless."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Sif swallowed, her eyes closing at the sound of his words. Clearly it was something she thought about, and often, since the boy she grew up with and the man who had done all of those terrible things were two completely separate people. A trickster, an imposter, that he was. But Loki was never a murderer./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""What of the Destroyer you sent to New Mexico to attack us – to attack me? Did you not care then- about any of us?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""When I found out what I truly was, who I was, I didn't care anymore. A part of me snapped. You loved Thor, or so I thought, and I wanted him dead. I did, that I won't deny. I felt like he knew all along and lied to me just as Odin and Frigga did, and that was a grave blunder on my part. All I knew was lost. All except the power of the throne – the one chance I had left to be anything, where people would see that I could be a good king, that I could do right by them. I couldn't do that with Thor in my way. He never would have let me as he bends too easily to Odin's will. But I never would have hurt you. I know that, and deep down, I think you've always known that too. I ached for you even when I thought he was all you ached for. In a way, we both had something we couldn't have and that was an even enough keel for me. At least, at the time it was. When I returned to Asgard for the second time to be imprisoned I had many hours to think to myself – to be myself once more – and reflect upon all that I had done and all that I had become. When Thor approached me I seized an opportunity that would help me get exactly what I was looking for, all I was looking for - revenge for my mother's murder and redemption in his eyes and possibly even yours. I had one last chance to prove myself good, but I was not going to come back and while away in a cell for the rest of my days. I'd rather be dead than have too much time to sit and think on you pining away for that lumbering oaf."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Sif smiled against his chest, hearing the familiar jealousy and annoyance in his voice. There he was, the Loki she always knew and loved. "You. Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Loki paused at her words and abruptly stopped running his fingers through her hair./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""What is it?" Sif asked, looking up at him./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Those were Frigga's last words to me…" Loki sighed, recalling what seemed to be yet another unpleasant memory in the abundance of them that he had./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""She was a smart woman. The smartest woman I ever knew."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Loki smiled. "She loved you fiercely. You know that," he sat up, "Do you remember when we were children and I cut off your hair?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Sif rolled her eyes and sat up next to him, resting her head on his shoulder, her fingers entwined with his. "Do I ever."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Terribly sorry about that, my love. But mother wasem furious/em with me! You should have seen her! She threatened to send me to live with the Trolls! emShe/em was the one that brought your hair back from them, not I, and I'm afraid we still owe them a debt for it." He chuckled, recalling the memory. Something seemingly harmless, but something he knew deeply affected her. He tried to jest though his heart was truly sorry for the pain he had caused her so long ago. "But if I do say so, that color is very becoming on you…," he said smiling, trying to lighten the heavy moment, but with a hint of sadness still in his eyes./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""You best say so, it is emyour/em doing that I am forever raven-haired, just like the son of mischief! It has grown on me though. I like to think that a blonde shield maiden would not have been taken as seriously."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""I've never taken you seriously either way," he said, cocking an eyebrow at her and holding back laughter as she swung at him. He pulled her down, tickling her underarms and pinning her beneath him./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""You fool!" She screamed with laughter, making to kick him in the nether regions if he did not cease. His hands flew up in the air in surrender and he smiled playfully at her. Laying back down on his side facing her, head resting on his hand, his smile suddenly faded./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Why did you do this to yourself?" He ran his fingers lightly over her wounds that were quickly fading into scars./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Sif swallowed, suddenly looking ashamed. "I, much like you, had nothing left. My best friend had left for Midgard, Frigga was dead. And you- you were never coming back. It was desperation, some would say it was incredulous that I would fall so far beneath my honor, but the void I felt with you truly gone was something I knew I could search the nine realms for eternity for and never fill. There was no life anymore. My heart was gone." Tears fell freely from her face down onto the sheets, her eyes looking away from his./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""My darling, I always find a way back. You've underestimated me," He smiled lovingly up at her, resting his palm on her cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumb. Her hand slid up to hold his against hers. Leaning down in down into him, their lips met./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Breaking away after minutes passed, Loki suddenly remembered what had been bothering him since he woke. "I must go. I have duties to attend to."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""You're the King. Can't you stay in bed all day?" she whimpered at him, smiling teasingly./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""My guards will surely be beginning to suspect something by now, a king cannot lay in bed emall/em day - although Odin seems to make quite the habit of doing so," he said bitterly. "Fortunately, this king is rather gifted at being in two places at once – but only for a short while. I will be back by nightfall, my love. Do you need me to send for the healer?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""I seem to be healing fine."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""I'll send for him anyway," Loki said, disregarding her statement and moving around the bed to her side, kissing her hand. "Nothing is too good for you."/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Where are you going now?"/p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""I have several council meetings to attend and then, well, I suppose I should bathe at some point…," he smiled humorously./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Well… save that part for tonight then," she winked at him, laughing as he laughed./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;""Until then, my love," he stood, pausing momentarily to gaze at her beauty and the warmth emanating from her eyes, wondering what in Hel he ever did to deserve her./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"Transforming back into the guard, Loki stepped outside into the hall and leaned hard against her door. He found the nearest handmaiden and asked her to fetch the healer. Once she had disappeared, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath before walking straight across the cloister into the gardens./p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;" /p  
p style="font-family: 'Lucida Grande', 'Lucida Sans Unicode', 'GNU Unifont', Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 15.8004px;"From there, Loki headed off in the direction of the Langthwaite Meadow./p 


	8. Chapter 8 - Magnus

(Decided to split this chapter up into two smaller chapters - sorry to make it so short, but another will follow soon!)

Sif heard a knock on her door the moment she stepped out from the washroom, fully dressed in her usual attire. Quickly securing her hair up in a simple ponytail and smoothing her tunic, she started toward the door, hoping momentarily that Loki had forgotten something.

She opened the barricade, unsurprisingly, to find the same healer that had cared for her in her less than glorious hours the previous day. He was a very short man, quite old, who had an undeniable warmth and mystery about him. He always wore a faint smile upon his face as if he were harboring the most pleasant of secrets. He vaguely reminded Sif of someone she once knew, but she couldn't quite place him.

"Please, come in," she spoke kindly, gesturing for him to enter.

"Thank you, child," he replied hoarsely, waddling through the door and over to her bureau where he placed his weighty knapsack down upon it. Fumbling through his bag, he pulled out a pair of wire rimmed spectacles and gestured for Sif to sit in the chair next to him.

"I trust you are feeling better?"

"Ah yes - forgive me- what is your name healer?"

"The name's Magnus, my girl," He placed the spectacles on the brim of his oversized nose, and winced up at her. "I would tell you my surname as well, but I seem to have forgotten it in the last thousand years or so."

Sif chuckled. "It's nice to meet you - Magnus." _Magnus. _The name sound so familiar to her, even now. Her face darkened. "I'm sorry we met under such humiliating circumstances yesterday."

Magnus quickly waved a hand dismissively. "No matter, my girl. Let's take a look at that arm now, shall we?" He carefully placed his hand on hers and turned her wrist so he could take a proper look at her forearm. Not a scratch to be seen. The old man nodded and gently patted the spot where her scars once were. "It seems you are as good as new."

Sif smiled as he removed his glasses and tucked them back into his knapsack. "Tell me, Lady Sif," Magnus paused cautiously before continuing, the first time he had been anything less than buoyant and lighthearted. His voice lowered. "How does your heart fare?"

"I'm sorry?"

"My dear girl," he whispered, pulling another chair feebly in front of her to sit in. "I know what you did yesterday. I know why you did it. I even know who you did it for."

"H-how?"

"Well, you're not the first to try and do something like this in these parts. No, no, I've seen this more than once in my years. Many have pined away for lovers that have left or since passed on, unable to cope. You may not remember me either, but I knew both of your parents, and well. My wife was Alva, your mother's handmaiden for the better part of her years. I, with the help of my wife, helped bring you into this world. Do not be alarmed, but I have watched you from a safe distance for most of your life. I promised your parents on their deathbeds and Alva on hers, that I would keep you from harm, that I would be your sworn healer."

Sif's hands closed over her mouth and tears welled in her eyes. She suddenly knew who he was, and she was not alarmed. She had loved Alva as a child, loved playing with her. She was closer to her than she was with her own mother. She had not recognized Magnus initially, the years since she was a girl had deeply aged him – most likely from the stress of losing his wife, she thought - but beneath those deep lines and wrinkles was indeed a man she once knew.

Reaching out to him, she took his hand in hers, wiping a stray tear from her eye with her free hand as she did. She sat up straight and looked at the floor, smiling. "I know who you are, Magnus. Why did you not make your presence known sooner to me?"

He smiled, patting his eyes dry with a handkerchief he produced out of his breast pocket. "Knowing you, Lady Sif, you would have avoided me like the plague. It's hard enough keeping fair track of you as it is without you knowing, but you, being the mighty warrior that you are now, wouldn't let me close if you knew I had sworn to protect you. It has been easier these years you knowing not of my existence. Less painful, at least. For the both of us."

"I was so young when she died…," Sif replied, a hint of pain in her eyes. "I suppose I grew up wanting to pretend none of it had happened which is partly why I trained to be a warrior. Asgard is so vast I never thought I'd see you again, didn't know if you were still even here and wouldn't know where to begin looking. But I did think of you. And her. Often."

"It seems you never had to look too far, I was always kicking somewhere around these parts," he smiled at her, but quickly, that smile faded. "My dear, to be quite frank, I've come to you now because I fear for your life. Not just because of your actions yesterday. Your heart is in a dangerous place. I've always known your affections for him, but-"

"Magnus, Thor is not-," Sif interrupted.

He raised a gentle hand to silence her. "The only one unaware of your love for Loki all of these years, I'm afraid, was him – and perhaps, yourself. We all knew. Your parents. Alva. Frigga. Thor. Even Odin. The two of you were bound to one another before you could form words. I know telling you to stay away from him is fruitless, but there is a dark order where that boy is concerned."

"You're right in that it is fruitless. And – and anyway, he is gone, i- it doesn't matter anymore," she raised her brow at him, suddenly realizing her façade wasn't bearing any weight.

"My dear, it is no use. I saw through him when he came to your bedchambers just yesterday, and even if I hadn't, it would have been clear by the light in your eyes I see now that I haven't seen since before his feigned demise," Magnus laughed to himself. "That boy has been trouble since he could walk, and you, always several paces behind him."

Sif looked down and smiled to herself, ignoring the heavy undertones in his statement. Loki was alive. Everything else, they could overcome. Together. She would save him no matter the circumstances, fight beside him against any beast that threaten to tear him from her. Now that the Gods had heard her pleas, now that they had brought the two of them back together, nothing would break them apart; and Sif would die trying to make sure of it.

"Lady Sif, Heed my warning –," he continued, his voice cracking. "Loki has always been a man of two faces. You _know _him to be dangerous, perhaps you aren't yet aware of just _how_ dangerous. The rest is not for me to say. But I will say one more thing which you _must_ hear…"

Sif leaned in curiously, her heart sinking at the look of concern across this man's face who, just moments ago, was smiling along with her. She suddenly knew whatever he would say to her now was something of grave importance that would change the course of things drastically.

"You are different in more ways than one since I last saw you yesterday, my girl," Magnus paused, looking up at the startled shield maiden.

"It appears to me now… that you are with child."


	9. Chapter 9 - Revelations

The blood drained from Sif's face. She was fully aware that Asgardian healers knew the very moment conception occurred and could tell whether someone was twenty days along or twenty minutes, but this was far from the type of news she expected to hear. She looked from his eyes down slowly to her stomach, running her fingers across the fabric of her tunic. _It's impossible, _she thought.

"It's not impossible," Magnus said, his head down, seemingly able to read her thoughts. "You are different now than you were the last time I saw you meaning conception occurred in the interim."

Her eyes fixed straight ahead, filling with tears. The dangerous realization that someone other than her was aware of Loki's existence suddenly hit quite hard. "Please," she begged him, grabbing his hands and falling to her knees. "Please, you mustn't tell anyone he is alive. Not now. Not, not now."

"No, no Lady Sif," Magnus ushered her back into her seat, patting her hands in her lap. "That news is not for me to share. I have sworn to keep you safe. I'm not sure letting him near you is keeping you safe exactly, but I know now you would be far worse off without him." He reached in his pocket and slowly pulled out a tiny white stone attached to a thin leather band. "Wear this. Always."

"The Eolh rune?" Sif looked up at him, confused.

"For protection. You will need it, there is no doubt. I cannot say what will become of you, of any of us in the coming times, but I do know we're going to need quite a bit of help. And I know I won't always be around to fix up your wounds," he said, a hint of a smile back on his face.

She slowly sat back up on the chair, wiping her eyes and taking the stone from him. She placed it gradually around her neck and buried it deep beneath her tunic, holding it against her chest. Her left hand never strayed from her stomach.

"Do you know… what it is? I mean.. do you know-"

"I've had visions. Two children. Boys," he said, smiling up at her through those warm, squinty eyes.

Sif gasped, her brows furrowing. She looked down at her stomach disbelievingly. "Twins?"

"Twins."

* * *

Once Loki had made it far enough through the tall brush of the meadow, out of plain sight, he transformed eagerly back into his natural state. He was livid. The lines in his face, the dark shadows under his eyes, the severe strut in his walk – he was back to being the Loki most of Asgard knew; a true force to be reckoned with. Trudging through the thick brush, he cursed repeatedly under his breath at the unkempt state of the grounds until he finally reached the edge of the woods.

"WITCH!" he cried in an outrage, wasting absolutely no time summoning the sorceress. He held his arms out as if looking to embrace someone, a deranged grin on his dark face. "IT IS I, YOUR PRINCE OF ASGARD. COME NOW, WHERE IS MY OLD FRIEND?"

He heard the familiar snapping of branches several yards from where he stood. His body spun in the direction of the noise just in time to see the black hooded figure step out from behind a large oak and lean against it.

"Don't you mean… _King _of Asgard?" Freyja sneered, laughing eerily to herself.

"Why have you sought me out, _demon?_ I know what I am now; I know of my lineage, why do continue to use such things against me? Have I not suffered enough in your eyes that you know pose _threats_ to those I love?"

"LOVE?" she replied incredulously, her cackle deafening. "Hearing _those words _from your mouth – _No_, no, _my king, _do not mistake me. I pose no threats. I only wish to solve the rest of your – _puzzle_ for you. My dearest Loki, Son of Laufey and Farbauti, you are much _more_ than just an _appalling _Frost Giant who should never have been granted access into Asgard," she spat, circling him while running a long, black fingernail down the side of his clenched jawbone. "You were cursed, at birth, when you were taken - _cursed_ by your _real_ parents. You have a rightful throne – but not here. Not in this realm."

"Jötunheim."

"_Very good, _my king. You see, until you return to Jötunheim to take your place as king of the Frost Giants, you will never have love. You will never have peace. Those who love you will cease to be. And those you truly love – well, look at what happened to Frigga. Or should I say, look what _you _did to Frigga_-"_

_"_ENOUGH!" He yelled, grabbing her by the throat, his eyes blazing with fury. If looks could kill, Freyja would have been dead instantly on contact.

Her black lips smirked underneath his grasp and her hands waved in front of him. "It isn't right to shoot the messenger…," she choked.

"I have a hunch you're much more than that, _Freyja," _he sneered, throwing her down on the ground_. _"Tell me now before I suck the life out of you, what way out of this is there?"

Freyja laughed again, clutching her chest and rocking back and forth on the ground. "You stupid boy… THERE IS NO WAY OUT," she barked angrily at his blatant ignorance on the matter, her eyes glowing fiercely at him. "Unless-

"Unless?"

"Unless you die."

Loki laughed at her, his hands expressing themselves freely now. "While I have thought in the past that would solve a _lot _of problems, I was hoping for an alternative."

"There is another way. If you… bear a son, they will come for him instead," she spoke, her tone slightly graver and less amused.

Loki thought momentarily to himself. There was virtually no way he could ever impregnate Sif, a man of his colorful _background_. She was too pure. He thought for a minute he might actually be able to fool the Frost Giants by making an empty promise to them, satisfying the curse and protecting Sif.

Freyja read Loki's thoughts instantly and a wicked smile crept lazily across her face.

"Don't be foolish, Laufeyson. It appears your warrior goddess is already expecting. You really _don't _waste time mucking your life up and everyone else's now, do you?"


	10. Chapter 10 - My Burden to Bear

(I'm so sorry it has taken so unusually long to update – I've been busier than normal, but have also been trying to formulate the story in the direction I want it to go. It should not take so long again! Thank you so much to everyone for your continued support!)

Loki's heart sank. For the first time in his life, he opened his mouth to speak but found himself at a complete loss for words. He wanted nothing more than to accuse the wretch of lying, but somehow he knew she was telling the truth. Sif _had_ conceived. By no means was Loki a seer, but he possessed many mystical qualities; he himself knew there was something inexplicably different about her this morning though he could not place it until now. Still, as cliché and predictable as they sounded, the words came out.

"That's _not _possible," he replied, narrowing his eyes at her and indignantly raising his chin. Though he was trying hard to appear indifferent it was taking everything in him now to hold back the tears in his eyes and the sickness rising in his throat.

"My king, which one of us are you trying to convince?" She spat back at him, a glimmer of amusement in her nefarious gaze. "How could you claim to love someone so dearly yet damn them to such a terrible fate?"

Loki crossed over to where she stood, this time desperation replacing the infamous anger in his eyes. His tone was quieter, the fear in his voice evident. "And what fate is this?"

"You are a frost giant. She is not. If she doesn't die in childbirth, they will come for her. For your child. For your-," Freyja stopped suddenly, her eyes grave. "For your _children_. I see two now. The Lady Sif will bear you two children. Sons. Looks like you won't have to leave Asgard now, Laufeyson. Your score will be settled. After all, a child is worth more than the father."

Loki looked as if someone had punched him hard in the stomach. He could take many blows, many disappointments but this was just unfair.

"What of Sif? What could they possibly want with her?"

"To raise them, naturally. Asgardian or not, she is still their mother. But they will kill her in time."

As the realization of her words began to sink in further, Loki found reality slipping away from him. His heart began to race. _A child? TWO? How? How was it possible that someone so beautiful and pure could bear **his** children? How could he have let that happen? How could the Gods let any of this happen? _He could suddenly bear no more of Freyja's presence.

With no further regards to the witch he staggered off in a trance-like state towards the meadow, which eventually turned into a run. Faster and faster he ran, his heart racing, his mind spinning. This was not true, it couldn't be, he refused to believe it. Sif had always been smart, and safe - her future bright. The one comfort he always had about not being with her was that she was so much better off without him – he _knew_ this. Did he think he could change his fate or hers by simply loving her and having her love in return? He had not been with her much longer than a day and already her existence was spoiled because of him. He couldn't bear to be the one to tell her the news, not only that he had impregnated her but that her life was now at stake. Throwing himself down into the brush and onto his knees he looked up at the sky, screaming hard as his did so, the veins in his forehead prominent, the tears pouring freely.

"WHY HER?" he yelled, painfully, pounding his fists hard into the ground. "THIS WAS NOT HER FATE! THIS WAS MEANT TO BE _MY _BURDEN TO BEAR!"

The graying sky cracked open and rain began to fall silently across the meadow. Loki slumped over on the ground dejectedly, letting the drops blanket over him. A bolt of lightning flashed brightly across the mid afternoon horizon followed by a low rumble of thunder. He quickly looked up anxiously, his heart pounding excitedly, half expecting and fully hoping to see the familiar silhouette of Thor lumbering through the tall grass over to where he lay, but no one was there. His raven locks clung soddenly to the sides of his face; he couldn't tell where the rain on his cheeks began and where his tears ended. He closed his eyes, pulling his knees to his chest and prayed silently to himself.

_I know I have wronged you, brother. More times than I care to remember, and in ways I cannot myself comprehend. You owe me nothing, and yet, if you can hear me, by some luck of the nine realms, I need you now. For Sif, if no one else…_

* * *

It was late now; the sky had long since cleared, turned to pink and then dark and yet, there was still no sign of him. Sif sat on the edge of her window seat looking out impatiently at the grounds below her. She looked down at her stomach, fingering the rune that pressed coldly against her chest and ran it across her lips absentmindedly. What would she tell him? How would he react?

Suddenly, a loud crash came upon her door, startling her entirely. It sounded much more like someone or something falling against it rather than a loud knock. She grabbed the closest dagger off the bedside table and made her way over to the noise.

"Who's there?" she asked. Normally a shield maiden of her stature wouldn't have blinked twice at the commotion, but between her new condition and the warnings Magnus gave she was a bit more jumpy than usual.

After hearing nothing for a minute, she cracked the door open and looked outside. No one was there. Suddenly, she heard a low grumble and looked down to see Loki, fully undisguised, slumped half consciously against the opposite door. He looked up at her, his eyelids heavy.

"Hello _darling_," he beamed, his voice annoyingly sarcastic. He had clearly been drinking, something Loki was not known for. Most times that Thor had made it a point to get inebriated with the lot of them, Loki would be curled up with a book in the corner of the pub. One of many things Sif had always admired about him.

"DAMNIT!" she cursed. Angrily, she grabbed him by the collar dragging him quickly out of plain sight and into her chambers, slamming the door shut and kicking her dagger across the room. Her hands snaked through her hair and began tugging her locks hard out of fear and frustration.

"WHAT HAS GOTTEN INTO YOU? SOMEONE COULD HAVE SEEN YOU- WHAT IN THE NINE REALMS WERE YOU THINKING?"

"Oh good, she still has a bit of that old fight left in her! Love hasn't made you all _soft _after all now, has it, _Lady Sif_?"

"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"

He sat up on the ground to get a better look at her, his eyes burning. He raised his hand, shakily pointing his finger at her and scowling in his drunken stupor. "_You_ were better than this. _You_ chose the wrong path."

Sif was so angry with him, she could hardly see straight or pay close attention to what he was saying. If he had been seen, he would have undoubtedly been taken from her and then what would she have done? Before her thoughts could rationally sort themselves out she crossed the room and fell to the ground where he lay, striking him hard across the face.

"You BASTARD. I CANNOT believe you wo- "

Loki grabbed her arm hard and raised his hand as if he were about to hit her back, his face inches from hers, his strength suddenly overpowering her. Tears welled up in his eyes, his face hardened and his veins pulsed as he breathed heavily through his nostrils, staring furiously at her. For the first time in a long time, Sif was genuinely afraid of him.

"Let go of me," she said quietly, trying hard to remain calm in his grasp. She knew he was intoxicated, and angry, for whatever reason. She knew the man doing this now was not the man she loved, but tears began falling down her cheeks, and she could not look at him. "Loki, let go."

Suddenly, a wave of realization hit him and he dropped her arm looking as if he had just done the worst possible thing imaginable by threatening to hit her, even if he didn't realize what the Hel he was doing. He had little to no control over his anger _without _the help of a drink but it was no excuse. He loved her more than anything in the nine realms, and he had just almost put his hands on her. He recoiled and then quickly reached for her, but she flinched and he did not advance.

"Sif- no, please I-," his voice was shaky and absolutely desperate. The sickness he felt within him was permeating through every cell in his body. No matter how drunk he was, he damn well realized how close he just came to hurting her and it was a sobering experience.

"It's alright. It's okay," she breathed, sitting back against the wall, holding her abdomen protectively.

Loki watched her fingers graze her stomach, and he wanted to throw himself out the window. He suddenly wished none of this had happened; it was a living nightmare to be watching someone he loved so dearly be damned because of something he had done.

"I would _never_ hurt you!" he began to weep hard. Sif had seen him cry before, but this was far from anything she had ever observed. It was traumatizing to witness. Something was clearly very wrong, though she knew not what. She quickly crawled over to him and cradled his head in her lap, running her fingers through his hair, her heart breaking at every gasp for air he took in between sobs.

"I know, shhh," she cried. "I know, my darling. I know you wouldn't."

He laid for what seemed like hours in her lap while she silently caressed his hair, forcing him in and out of sleep. She cautiously pulled him up at one point, though he realized what she was trying to do and suddenly forced himself to walk so she wouldn't exert herself on his expense. He stumbled over to the bed and sat down, his expression blank. His eyes were heavy, tired, and full of sadness.

He removed his shirt and pants and sat down on the bed, feeling quite sober but still out of it.

Sif started towards the bathroom but stopped dead in her tracks when she heard him laugh to himself and say under his breath –

_"I'm going to be a father."_


	11. Chapter 11 - Look After You

Sif turned to look at him from across the room, but his back was facing her, his head in his hands. She couldn't see the expression he wore, but she knew she didn't have to. Suddenly, his behavior made perfect sense. She had no idea how he knew, Magnus maybe, but she was too tired and too disheartened by his actions to confront him about something she was clearly not meant to hear.

She turned again and made her way to the washroom, sobbing silently to herself as she removed her tunic and stripped down to her undergarments. Focusing on one step at a time, one breath at a time, she methodically made her way over to the bath and turned on the water until it was temperate. She stared at herself momentarily in the full length mirror, crossing her arms over her stomach and closing her eyes as she held on tightly to the rune still hanging around her neck.

Footsteps sounded quietly behind her, but she kept her eyes close, too tired to open them, too afraid to see the disappointment in his eyes. Familiar fingers came softly to remove the pins in her hair, letting her locks fall around her bare shoulders. His hands moved carefully to sweep the hair in one motion behind her back, his fingertips making her shiver as they brushed delicately against her skin.

She opened her eyes as he walked over to the bath to check the rising water. She moved carefully towards him, avoiding his eyes and proceeded to remove the rest of her clothes. When she looked up, he was gazing at her, his eyes heavy with fatigue and sadness, his expression apologetic. Loki said nothing yet held out a hand which she took hesitantly. He helped her up the steps to the wash basin and she lowered herself with the help of his grip.

Sinking down into the warmth of the water, Sif leaned back against the wall, sighing heavily. She looked over at him as he sat on the steps, his head and crossed arms draped over the edge of the tub, the water just barely touching the tips of his long black locks as they fell over the side. Her fingers reached for them, and he looked up at her as she gently tugged on his long, soft curls.

"Join me?" she blinked, asking hopefully, though she need not ask him twice.

He leisurely removed his briefs, letting them fall to his feet as he stepped out of them. She gawked at him in the rays of the moonlight. He truly was not of this realm she thought to herself, but in a way, she always knew that. Skin as pale and as beautiful as the Jotun snow, hair as black as Odin's ravens, Huginn and Muninn. His eyes changed from blue to grey to green (depending on his mood, she was convinced), but no matter the color, they were always his most prominent feature. Those eyes, those beautifully forlorn eyes that searched endlessly for love and acceptance. She didn't hate him for the way he acted. Not even a little. For as much as she didn't understand him sometimes, there were some things she could.

Loki sank down into the deep, warm waters of the basin, submerging his head as he did so. When he came back up he took a deep breath, perfectly slicking his hair back and leaning against the opposite wall from her. She suddenly noticed scars she hadn't before – indentations around his wrists and neck – undoubtedly from his time in the dungeons. The more she looked at him, the more wounds she saw. She suddenly felt sick. No doubt he had committed heinous acts, no doubt he was a troubled soul… but in treating him the way they did, the way everyone did – it was no wonder he had gone so far down the wrong path. She partly blamed herself for that.

He noticed her looking at him, knew she was eyeing his scars and suddenly, he felt ashamed. He knew she was reiterating the events of Midgard in her head – something he knew he would never be free of. He grabbed a washrag and a vial of cleansing oils off the side of the tub and began to scrub vigorously at himself, wishing the scars would come off along with the dirt.

Sif swam across the tub and took the cloth gingerly from him. He had scrubbed so hard his pale skin was turning bright pink in certain areas. He didn't seem to sense pain in the way everyone else did, she thought to herself. Either that or he just didn't care.

"By the Allfather, what were you doing today? Rolling around in the mud?" Her hands touched the side of his face as she straddled him, the wet warmth of her bare body pressing against his hard torso.

He looked up at her sheepishly, placing his hands softly at the base of her hips. "I guess you could say that," he nodded.

Sif gently wiped his face clean with the rag then moved to do the same to his arms and chest. She pulled him up against her and continued to wash his back, holding his neck in her hand as he rested his head on her shoulder. Loki breathed deeply, secretly taking in the scent of her hair as it fell across his face. His rough hands moved gently to the velvety skin of her back and he embraced her, holding her tightly against him. For the first time since his mother died, despite all the horror he had felt today, he felt safe. Protected. Loved.

"What is it, my darling…,"she asked quietly, placing the towel down and returning the fervor of his embrace.

"I will never deserve you," he whispered, smiling faintly against her skin. "I think I must somehow make peace with that."

"You know that isn't the truth," she replied earnestly, breaking their hold on one another. She looked up into his eyes, but he looked away. She knew wherever his mind was now was far from where she currently sat beside him.

Loki said nothing but slowly came to and turned her around until her back faced his chest. He took her soft, thick locks between his fingertips and began to pull gently against them, forming one long single braid down the middle of her back. Sif smiled to herself as he began to do so, and proceeded to question him amusedly despite knowing the answer.

"Where did you learn to braid hair so well, Silvertongue?" she said teasingly, looking down at her fingers as they made ripples in the water.

"Thor," Loki said bluntly, laughing to himself. "He was always such a woman."

Sif laughed loudly and leaned back into his chest, wrapping her arms around his head and gently pulling his hair down so his lips met the nape of her neck.

"No," Loki whispered into her skin, firmly yet tenderly pulling her braid down so her chin lifted up to him. He softly wrapped his hand around her neck and tilted her head back so their eyes met. "As I remember it," Loki said quietly, his eyes burning into hers, "a beautiful young shield maiden threatened to assault me if I didn't learn."

She closed her eyes as his fingers closed in around her throat, a warm desire suddenly spreading throughout her body and between her legs. The power he held over her was exasperating. He was the one person that could break her in half, both physically and mentally, and she knew it. They both knew it. Sif could bring Thor to his knees at times during their skirmishes, but Loki's quick wit and cunning temperament always held the upper hand when it came to the two of them. He was intelligent, yes, but most underestimated his physical prowess in comparison to Thor's. Sif knew better.

Quickly gathering her thoughts, she spoke, glaring up at him slyly. "So you cut off her hair…"

"I was _so_ tired of braiding," he rolled his eyes sarcastically, beaming at her. His smile quickly faded as his gaze fell upon the rune. He hadn't quite noticed it until now.

"Ah," he sighed, eyeing the stone carefully. "It seems as though you have protection from me after all."

Sif swallowed. Certainly she hadn't forgotten her current state or the extreme events of the day, but she was enjoying pretending as if, for once, everything was normal between them.

"I don't need protection from you," she spoke frankly, suddenly breaking free of his grasp and moving to the opposite end of the tub to distance herself.

"Sif, I don't have a very good track record of keeping those I love safe from harm. In fact, I'm usually the damaging force."

"You weren't in your right mind. You haven't been. And those who claim to love you haven't done a proper job of keeping you safe from harm either."

"Don't make excuses for me," Loki snapped. "There are none for the things I have done. And tonight- I could have-"

"Stop it," she interrupted angrily, quickly standing and stepping out of the tub. "You didn't hurt me. You wouldn't hurt me. You haven't hurt me."

She looked back and could tell by the look he gave her now that he was angry, but a heavy fear and sadness in his eyes was much more apparent. He had no idea how to inform her of the pregnancy, no idea how she would react to the news that her life was in danger, never mind the lives of her unborn children – _CHILDREN! By the Gods!_ The thought made him weak. Certainly she would leave him now, or find a way to. He knew he didn't want to tell her – the fear of her leaving him – he felt like a child afraid of abandonment. But he knew he must tell her, as much as it broke him.

"I told you I _don't_ need protection from you," she said, practically reading his thoughts. Her hands moved slowly down to her stomach as she looked down.

"But I do need protection… for them."


	12. Chapter 12 - Misfortunes

Loki blanched. He looked as if he had been punched in the stomach, and physically felt as if he had been. He had no idea she was already aware of her conception this entire time, how _could _she be_? _

"_The healer…_,_"_ he whispered breathlessly as it dawned on him, choking down any anger he suddenly felt towards the old man.

She had every right to know and he was a dolt to think otherwise. He wasn't protecting her one bit by pretending this wasn't happening, and he felt ashamed for grossly underestimating her personal strength. Unfortunately, there was still plenty she didn't know.

Loki wasn't sure how she knew how _he_ knew, but the way she spoke clearly implied that she was fully aware. She must have overhead him in the other room. _What a perfect fool I am,_ he thought.

He sat speechless in the wash basin, staring blankly at her before snapping out of his thoughts. Sif was standing naked in the moonlight, holding herself and shivering violently, her expression pained, tears falling freely down her face. He quickly stepped out of the tub, grabbed the nearest oversized towel and wrapped the both of them in it, pulling her closely into him and smoothing her hair back from her face as he did so. Sif shook as she buried her face in his chest, her fists clenched tightly against his skin. She acted as if she were about to either beat him up or start sobbing uncontrollably. Unfortunately, in Loki's eyes, it was the latter.

"_Shh…_," he cooed, pressing his lips gently to her forehead and rocking her steadily in his arms.

Loki hated to see Sif cry. When they were children and she would weep, he would always try desperately to get her to stop, usually by conjuring a bird or her favorite flower, the Asgardian moonflower. It made him uncomfortable and incredibly sad, for usually _she_ was the strong one, despite the fact that her upbringing wasn't much better than his.

"I'm sorry-," she choked out loudly, startling him. "I do not know how this has happened… I've never known something like this to happen so soon, I know, I realize you may not want this anymore, you don't have to pretend-"

He took her chin and lifted it firmly with a single finger. Her eyes remained closed, as if she were a child about to face repercussions.

"Sif, look at me…," he spoke quietly, calmly. "Darling, look at me…"

She opened her eyes, her beautiful, big, hazel eyes. The same eyes she had all the days he had known her, only the look in them now was foreign. She had been broken by him, by his disappearances, by his misgivings, by his feigned death, and now this. To think_ he_ wouldn't want _her… _

He reached up, cupping her face in his hands and proceeded to search her eyes intently. "How could you think that_ I_ could ever not want _you_?" he emphasized, his own tears starting to form. "I've waited, _literally,_ my entire life to hold you as I am now, to feel your skin against mine, to kiss your mouth-," he cried, running his thumb across her lower lip. Slowly, he crouched down in front of her and pressed his lips to her stomach, running his fingers across her skin. He rested his head against her body and sighed. "To know that you love me in return. You, _you _are all that has _ever_ mattered in my mundane, pathetic existence and now I find that you are to bear me my children and you think I would - _abandon you_?"

"I didn't-"

"I know I am a monster," Loki said sadly, slowly breaking away from her to retrieve his own towel. "But I would like to think I'm not _that _much of one."

Before Sif had time to respond, Loki wrapped the towel around his waist and carefully picked her up in his arms, carrying her through the rooms and laying her gently down upon the bed. He covered her with several blankets, leaned her up against the headboard and fussed incessantly about how many pillows she should have behind her back.

"By the Norns, I'm not an invalid yet…," she protested, though her complaints seemed to be falling on deaf ears. Even if she was only a day along, she was grateful for his assistance for the mere fatigue from the days events was making her weak. A hint of a smile crossed her lips as she watched him intently trying to make her warm, and he caught her.

"This is nothing," he laughed. "I'm afraid I'm only going to be more bothersome to you from this point on."

"Bothersome Loki? Not a totally foreign concept...," she smiled broadly, suddenly whacking him vigorously across the head with the closest pillow.

He looked up at her wide eyed, a threatening smile creeping slowly across his face.

"Oh! This is what you want, is it? This is how you want to play?" He bit his lip and quickly jumped on the bed, grabbed another pillow and smacked her in return. He threw the pillow to the side, forcing her under him, tickling her sides until she screamed at him to stop. He loved playing this game with her.

"You are such a child!" Sif snorted, trying to catch her breath. She meticulously began to pick feathers from the pillow off her lips and shot him a dirty look.

"Ah, yes, but see," he laughed, laying down closely beside her. "You started it this time, my dear."

She glanced over at him as he laid back, looking up at the ceiling above him and smiling to himself. She loved seeing him so carefree. He was more like himself these past few days than he'd been in years. That boy she fell in love with so long ago was back next to her again, only this time, he was finally hers.

Sif sat up in bed, pulling the covers up to her chest to cover her bare skin.

"How did you know?" she asked.

Loki swallowed. He knew the question was coming, but he didn't have an answer. She was clearly exhausted and he did not want to worry her further. Not tonight.

"Does it matter?" he asked, planting a kiss upon her hand.

"I suppose it doesn't, it just seems odd that you knew so soon...," she replied. "Hels, it's odd that _I_ know so soon. The healer came this morning and he knew as soon as he saw me. I knew they could sense such things, but it just seems impossible."

"I figured that was how you found out," Loki said. "I don't possess the magic they do, but I knew when I saw you this morning, something had changed. As for how I found out, you need to trust me, Sif. Trust me now. When the time comes, I will tell you. But believe me, now is not it."

She nodded reluctantly. She didn't like the truth of any matter being kept from her, but she did trust him – despite all of his shortcomings and mistakes, she did.

"There's my girl," he smiled, leaning in to plant a soft, lingering kiss on her lips.

"Did you have meetings earlier?" she asked as they reluctantly broke away from one another.

"I did," he said, raising his eyebrows. "Several. Mostly council meetings on the status of the Bifröst. Painfully boring," he replied. "If I had known I would one day be sitting through eons of drab conversation on that dreadful bridge, I certainly never would have pushed Thor to destroy it. Truly, I never wanted any of this."

Sif sunk down under the sheets and rested her head heavily on her pillow. Her eyes grew weary, and she smiled to herself as she closed them. Loki looked over at her, studying her face, wondering to himself what she was thinking. It was the one power he always wished to have. There were so many times growing up he wondered what she thought, about everything. Little did he know, she was usually thinking about him.

"Two. Boys. What will we name them?" she asked tiredly, her eyes still closed.

Loki, caught slightly off guard, paused before answering.

"I don't know the first thing about being a father, Sif. I never truly had one."

She opened her eyes, taking his hand gently in hers.

"But you are a good man. You are Frigga's son. You learned from her, more than you realize. You know how to love, because of her."

"I know how to love because of you. Even before I knew what love was, I loved you. We are not our parents, Sif."

Sif paused a long time. For a moment, Loki thought she might have drifted off, but the shuffling she did beneath the blankets proved otherwise.

"I still have scars from him."

Loki swallowed, suddenly closing his eyes out of sheer anger. His stomach turned. Biörr, Sif's father, was the most fearsome warrior Asgard had, and Odin's right hand man. When they were children, Sif would frequently show up to lessons and battle practices with inexplicable bruises and deep wounds painting her flesh. She always blamed it on a duel she lost or a clumsy misstep, but Loki knew better. There were times, at night, he would sit outside of her window and hear Biörr beating her in a drunken stupor. He had cast more curses on that buffoon than he had on anyone or anything else combined in his entire existence. Sometimes, Loki wondered if the whole reason Sif became a warrior was merely to learn how to defend herself against her father.

"He's a very, very fortunate man."

"Why do you say that?" she asked curiously.

"Because if it were possible to bring him back from the dead and kill him a second time, I would have already done it. There were so many times I knew he was hurting you, and yet I sat there, doing nothing."

She put her head down. "It's not your fault."

"Do you remember that time he "accidentally" fell off the North Tower and broke nearly every bone in his miserable body?"

"_Do _I ever," she responded pensively. "He didn't lay a hand on me for weeks. I think it was the first time I was fully healed in ten years or so."

"There was nothing accidental about it."

"You?"

"Me. I should have killed him, Sif. I should have done it. I couldn't stand seeing you like that."

"I knew you knew. I think most people did but they just turned a blind eye to it," Sif looked down. "My mother worst of all."

Loki cautiously sat up, and pulled Sif onto his bare chest. He leaned down to softly kiss her head and began stroking her hair.

"I'm appalled at the way I treated you earlier," he said disgustedly, his stomach churning.

"You were drunk," Sif smiled, running her fingers half consciously across his bare chest. "You never could hold a drink well."

"Neither could he. There is no excuse. I love you, I would die protecting you. And them. You know that right? Nothing will ever harm you ever again," he whispered, holding her tightly to him. His eyes began to fill with tears. He knew his statement was true, he would die protecting them. But would it be enough to keep them safe forever?_  
_

"Mmhmmmm," she sighed into his chest. Loki knew Sif was at the edge of sleep now as her breathing began to slow and her body relaxed more against his.

He cautiously reached his free arm out to the side table and grabbed a small, inconspicuous box that was resting there. He removed Frigga's wedding ring -an ancient sapphire encrusted in the rarest gemstones in the nine realms – and carefully placed it upon Sif's finger.

"_Be my wife_," he whispered, his soft lips grazing against her ear.

She stirred, but didn't open her eyes. Instead she smiled, nodded her head and proceeded to fall into a deep sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Loki woke before Sif. She continued to sleep so soundly next to him, he couldn't bear to wake her. He watched her for hours instead, brushing stray hairs from her eyes, smiling to himself when her nose twitched. She was a child again, innocent and vulnerable, in need of his care. Part of him wished she could stay wherever she was now, far from the misfortunes that plagued her waking life. Far from him. Far from any prophecy.

It wasn't long then before she woke, her eyes opening to meet his adoring gaze. He wasn't sure if she remembered what he had asked her the night before, but she closed her eyes and smiled.

"So what will the court think when they see an old king marrying a young warrior?" she peeked up at him, one eye open.

He smiled broadly, but before he had the chance to kiss her, a rapping suddenly came from the window.

Huginn and Muninn, Odin's ravens, were perched outside on the ledge, looking in alarmingly at the two of them.

Sif quickly fearfully up at Loki, but his eyes remained fixed on the birds.

"He's awake."


	13. Chapter 13 - Repercussions

"No." Sif whispered, her voice frightened.

"Sif," Loki remained frozen, his eyes transfixed on the birds as they flew off the ledge and into the morning sunlight. "Sif, listen to me now-"

"NO!" She screamed, knowing full well what was about to happen. She frantically jumped out of bed, pulled on her robe and fumbled through her drawers for a fresh tunic while Loki started off the bed after her. "He will NOT take you from me, he will NOT hurt you again! I will die before I let that-"

"Sif," Loki grabbed her arm firmly and turned her around towards him. He came inches within her face, speaking calmly yet sternly in a quiet whisper, raising a finger to her. "Sif, you need to listen to me. He's going to send the guards after me, you need to leave now,_ I_ need to leave now, I cannot be seen here. Speak to NO ONE of your state, speak to no one of our love, you must pretend as if this – never happened. For now."

"No, I will not, I WILL NOT!" She screamed, punching his chest fruitlessly as if she were a child. She sank against him, wrapping her arms around his neck. Never in her life had she cried more than she had in the past few days. This was breaking her.

"Stop it," Loki said angrily, though his eyes were quickly filling with tears. "Stop it. You are far more brave than this. You must be brave. For them. For me."

"I can't let them take you back there, I couldn't see you last time, tell me what to do for you, tell me what I can do!"

He sighed. He didn't want to involve her in the news he was about to share knowing full well she would try to take on the task herself, but he knew as soon as she would find out she would only be angry with him for not telling her. It was a no-win situation, in his mind.

"Sif. Yesterday, Lorelei escaped."

"WHAT? TO WHERE?" She looked up at him incredulously, as to why the status of that harlot mattered right now, but suddenly, she knew.

Lorelei was one of Loki's long-time admirers (and Sif's arch enemy) who was, like him, well versed in the magical arts. She held a strange, mystical power over men – a power that forced them into doing her bidding, whatever that might be. Loki, most of the time, was able to resist her power, which was one of the reasons she found him so intriguing and different from the rest of the men that pined after her. She had loved Loki since childhood, but those feelings were never reciprocated. They were lovers for years, but Loki only used her as a distraction from his love for Sif. He never loved her. When she figured out his true feelings (after years of being selectively blind to them), she had tried to kill Sif several times – though Sif herself never knew why. She had been a prisoner underground for years since, her powers kept at bay by a single collar that deflected them.

"Midgard. She went to Midgard. Why, and how, I don't know. I was informed of it yesterday. I'm sure the All-Father will be dispatching warriors to retrieve her, but you _must _have Volstagg or Fandral somehow put on the assignment, as much as I despise the git, Fandral was always one of the few that could resist her. I'm sure Odin will want you, but you must not go… Sif, you have to promise me you won't go."

"You know I can't promise that."

"You _must," _he spat angrily. "You must protect _them _and yourself, I could not go on if anything happened to any of you. Not while I uselessly rot in chains. Send one of the warriors to fetch her. Lorelei is the one chance I might have at getting out, and then we can leave the realm together. She might hate me, but she certainly owes me. And whatever you do, do NOT tell her ESPECIALLY that you have conceived. She must not find out, or she will make certain of your death this time."

The look on her face was sad and disbelieving, but more frightened than anything. Not because of Lorelei. Not because of Odin. She was terrified of losing him again, knowing the pain he was about to endure. She watched as he hesitantly broke away from her and dressed himself in his usual black, gold and green leather ensemble. He slicked his hair back and looked into the mirror, trying not to catch her eye in it as he did so.

He turned to face her again, this time his tone cold, his eyes blank and his voice menacing. He managed a wicked smile at her. A shiver ran down her spine. Even though it was an act, his façade, her Loki was suddenly gone.

"How do I look?" He asked sarcastically, both arms out, but his smirk faded when he realized how alarmed she was by his appearance.

"Like I never fell in love with you."

He crossed the room so quickly, she didn't have time to react. A stab of fear went through her at the sight of him charging after her, but the fear quickly abated as he gently pushed her against the wall, taking a handful of her hair in his fist and forcing her lips up to meet his. She grabbed his hair, pulling him desperately into her, feeling his soft lips moving fervently in time with hers, tasting his falling tears between kisses.

"Norns be damned, I need you now, right now," Sif cried, biting the skin of his neck, feeling his hardness growing against her thighs.

Loki wanted her to leave, he needed her to be gone in case the guards came, but the smell and taste of her skin was too intoxicating. He knew he could disguise her if anyone came, otherwise he wouldn't advance on her now despite how eager he was. Quickly dropping his heavy leather trousers, he tore off her lace robe and pushed her up against the wall, her legs wrapped around him as he ravenously entered her.

Sif let out an unbridled moan at the feeling of his erection filling her, and threw her head back against the wall. He kissed her breasts, gently sliding his tongue over her aching nipples despite savagely thrusting in and out of her.

"I'm not hurting you- am I?" He asked breathlessly, worried about the state of her and his actions.

"No, no," she swallowed, smiling at him, closing her eyes as if she were in a pleasant reverie. He watched a single tear fall from her face onto her breast.

"Don't cry," he whispered, using his free hand to wipe it off of her, his penetration slowing.

Sif sensed him stopping, and the pain of reality began to set in.

"Fuck me," she pleaded through tears, looking up at him. He was clearly startled by the vulgar words leaving such a beautiful mouth, and tried hard to stifle back an amused laugh. "Fuck me, Loki. For a moment let us forget we're even here."

He immediately set her down, turning her to face the wall and pinned her arms above her head with one hand. Reaching up to grab her breast with the other, he entered her again from behind, shoving himself into her heatedly while his orgasm loomed from the sheer cries of her arousal. He moved to her hair, grasping it by the handful and pulling it back to gain more control so as to enter her more deeply.

The feeling of him growing harder inside of her with each passing moment, the control he had over her now, was more than Sif could take. She closed her eyes, her nipples grazing the cold walls with each thrust. Loki turned her back around to face him, lifted her up against the wall and plunged deeper and deeper, sweat pouring down his forehead, veins throbbing in his neck.

He closed his eyes as he felt her tightening around him, her hands pulling hard at his hair. The look on his face was her undoing and the look on hers was his. As their eyes met, their pleasure took over and the two lovers collapsed breathlessly onto the floor.

Loki slowly sat up after a while, fixing his trousers as he did so. He closed his eyes and softly beat his head back repeatedly against the wall, only thinking about how sorry he was that he couldn't continue to enjoy the feel of her skin against his right now, but the sooner he broke away, the better. This was too painful.

"I love you, Sif," he whispered, trying hard to choke back any fresh tears that were forming.

"And I you, silver tongue," she replied, reaching for his hand.

Suddenly, the look on his face changed. He was clearly studying something, his eyes narrowing. Moments later, his eyes grew wide as a loud sound approached and banging suddenly came upon the door.

"They're here," he panicked. "Get inside your cloak cupboard. Now."

"Loki-"

"DO AS I SAY!"

Just as soon as Sif made her way into the cupboard, the doors of her bedchambers burst open. Nearly ten guards plus Volstagg and Fandral surrounded him, arresting him where he lay.

Loki grinned up sarcastically at the warriors, as if he had just seen a pair of old relatives he despised but had to pretend he liked for the first time in years. _What an actor he is, _Sif thought to herself as she watched them through a hole in the cupboard.

"Miss me?" He smirked.

"SILENCE!" Fandral yelled, backhanding him hard so that he fell from his knees back onto the floor. "Unfortunately we didn't bring the gag so we'll have to suffer your insolence for now."

"Left it in Volstagg's bedchambers, did you?" Loki jested, using his legs to push himself up off the ground since his hands were now bound behind his back. To Sif's surprise, several of the guards chuckled. Fandral was seething, his eyes scanning the bedroom for any sign of her.

"Why are you here?" Volstagg asked curiously.

"Oh, you know, just playing a little prank… thought I'd get some of those lovely raven locks of hers to match the golden ones I stole eons ago. It gets a bit boring around here, even for a king. Unfortunately for me, you came just in time."

"Where is she?" Fandral asked suspiciously, remembering the other day when he walked in on her with a guard who, curiously enough, he had not been able to locate. He was not so easily fooled.

A sudden voice came into Sif's head. _Now it's your turn to act, my love._ A muzzle suddenly appeared around her mouth, shackles around her wrists and ankles. They didn't hurt, surprisingly. In fact, she hardly felt them around her.

_Make noise._

Sif shifted in the cupboard, and the guards immediately came to her aid, opening the doors of the cupboard, and helping her out.

"LOKI! TAKE THOSE OFF OF HER!" Volstagg shouted angrily, knowing the bindings were his doing and not shackles any Asgardian guard could readily undo.

"Oh well," Loki yawned. "Perhaps next time my prank won't be foiled, dear Sif. Thank you for letting me hide out here. Of course, it was against your will, but none-the-less."

The shackles and the muzzle disappeared.

"YOU MONSTER!" She shouted, starting after him but Volstagg held her back. Little did anyone know the real reason for her tears was not because of what he had claimed he'd done, but that she desperately did not want him to leave now. She fell to the ground before him, sobbing mournfully.

Loki looked down, his eyes giving away a hint of sadness only apparent to her, but his face and demeanor remained stern.

"Shall we, boys?" Loki asked, implying that he was ready to go. He could not bear to see her like this any longer. He might just give up the game.

Fandral leaned down to help Sif, but she shoved him off.

"Leave me."

Fandral looked from her to Loki curiously.

"Come on, you fool," Volstagg said, pulling the chains that held him along with several other guards. Fandral stormed off in front of the group and out into the hallway.

Sif sat forlornly, trying to gain control of herself, but it was no use.

As Loki was dragged out from her bedchambers, the two made eye contact one last time. When no one else was looking he mouthed the words:

"Find Thor."


	14. Chapter 14 - Not This Day

_(It has taken APPALLINGLY long to update, and for that I am eternally sorry to you all. I am still very much invested in this fic, but have hit a few bumps in my personal life that have caused me to busier than normal as of late. Still, there is no excuse for how long it has taken and I promise there will not be such a massive gap in between updates anymore. Thank you for your continued support!)_

"_Find Thor?_" Sif whispered to herself incredulously as she remained kneeling on the floor, tears stinging her raw cheeks. She listened as the footsteps of Loki and the guards grew faint and gradually picked herself off the ground. She sat a moment on the closest armchair, looking herself over in the full length mirror hanging on the opposite wall. Her face was pale and gaunt, her eyes practically swollen shut.

"What a disaster you are, Lady Sif," she spoke wearily, putting her head in her hands. Never in all her years had she been so fragile, so powerless, so afraid. A pang of anger towards Loki suddenly stung right through to her core. _How could he have been so stupid and careless this entire time? Didn't he have a plan? _He was the most intelligent man she had ever known._ How did he not foresee any of this happening? How could he leave her now?_

A rush of adrenalin suddenly brought Sif to her feet. She could no longer think rationally, not with the circumstances at hand. Maybe, just maybe, there was still time to free him before he reached the Allfather. She could certainly fend off the guards on her own, but not on top of Fandral and Volstagg. If she freed Loki first, they could both easily take the lot of them. Together, they could escape and she knew it. She would be damned if she didn't try.

Quickly, Sif grabbed her sword and stormed out of her chambers in the direction of where she knew they would be heading. Several passing handmaidens noticed her frenzy, but paid her no real mind as they were used to seeing her heated. Her panicked jog turned into a run as she realized they were making headway much faster than she had hoped.

As she rounded the corner and headed down the long cloister towards the great hall, Sif knew she was too late. She reached the grand doors just in time for them to close, not even able to take one last glance at the man she loved; the man she knew she could never live without again.

Slumping down heavily against the walls, Sif banged her head against the stone in defeat. Her blood was boiling, her head pounding in misery. She secretly prayed that the doors would open now so she could go and slain Odin where he sat, blind and arrogant as he always was.

"I'll kill him myself," she muttered insanely under her breath. "If he harms one hair on his body, he shall never know peace... This I vow."

At that moment, a guard approached Sif where she sat. She looked up at him apprehensively, ready to strike him too on command if need be. Instead, the guard, looking rather mechanical and unfeeling, looked straight ahead and spoke the words Sif had been expecting to hear for days.

"Heimdall requests your presence."

* * *

As Loki entered the hall, he kept his head down. Despite the fact that he was merely steps away from learning his fate, the only thing on his mind was Sif and his unborn children. His _children._ He still couldn't believe the drastic events of the past few days. He was elated for the first time in so long, an emotion so raw and so new to him. The thought of the beautiful life he was capable of having was so close and yet still so very far. There were enough obstacles without Odin, he thought bitterly.

Loki took a deep breath, gathering himself properly before looking up into the stony gaze of his callous foster father. His jaw clenched and his stomach tightened at the sight of the Allfather staring down at him. He suddenly felt as though he were still a boy, about to be scolded. The thought made him cringe.

_"Don't keep being late for the evening feast, Loki. Be more mindful of your manners."_

_"If you practiced your combat skills as half as much as you read, you would make for a better warrior."_

_"Why aren't you more like your brother? Thor will make a fine king one day."_

And yet, of all the horrible things Odin had said to him, he still remembered the worst, as if it were yesterday.

_"Lady Sif will never fancy a meek little crow. Best to set your sights elsewhere, son."_

Odin, unfortunately, was one of the many who knew Loki's long time adoration of Sif and openly mocked it along with the rest of Asgard. Even if many saw the love she had for him in return, it was quite often mistaken for friendship or even pity. No one believed that the most beautiful maiden in Asgard could love Loki, the quiet, odd, less handsome prince, they thought. Only those who really knew Sif knew her true feelings; Frigga, Alva, Magnus and even Thor among them. Sif's mother would secretly find ways to sabotage their relationship, trying desperately to get her to be with Thor. In the end, the reason things ended up the way they did was mostly because of Sif's mother and the antics she pulled in her final years, all for the "good of her daughter", when really it was only to look better on her part. Loki hated Evja as much as he hated Sif's father, but he couldn't help but feel she was right all along about warning Sif to stay away from him. But Odin was wrong; the great, almighty, all-knowing Odin. Sif _did _love him, and always had. Suddenly, he stood a bit straighter.

"Loki Laufeyson-," Odin spoke his true surname coolly, the words stinging Loki deep in a place he thought he had long since buried. "You are here before me today to answer for the most serious of crimes of which you have committed – impersonating your king. The charge against you is that of high treason, how do you plead?"

"How do I plead?" Loki responded disbelievingly, a laugh escaping his mouth. "Are we _really_ doing this?"

"You will of course, be granted a fair trial within a fortnight. One that will be assessed and decided by myself, your peers and the magistrates of our court."

"Are you joking?" Loki mused, looking around at the guards for any sign of a put-on. "Did she not tell you? Frigga warned me before her death-"

"DO NOT mention her name this day," Odin barked, silencing every noise for miles. "Not this day. It seems it was your instruction after all that led that monstrosity to her, I will NOT have you speaking of her to me. Frigga, the only one you had standing in your corner is now dead at your hand. The only reason I am granting you any form of a trial is because despite all of this, despite _you_, it was what _she_ would have wanted."

Loki swallowed, wondering absentmindedly how it was that Odin knew the truth. He replayed that day in his mind more often times than not. If only he had kept his mouth shut, if only he had told Kurse to go another way… It was, however, no time to break. He would not give Odin that satisfaction. Not this day.

"Oh _mighty one,_ I do protest – what more would you damn me to? It seems as though you were quite keen on the cell for all eternity last time."

Odin paused before answering, as though there may have been a fleeting hint of sadness across his unforgiving demeanor.

"If you are innocent, you are free to settle wherever you choose within the nine realms, Asgard being exempt. Amnesty for your previous crimes was granted upon your assistance to Thor in rescuing Jane Foster from Malekith and the power of the Aether. If you are found guilty, however… the penalty is…"

Loki swallowed. He knew, but wanted nothing more than to hear his father finally say it.

"Death."


	15. Chapter 15 - Monster

Sif started off in the direction of the main gate, but hesitated, glancing back towards the hall of the Allfather. She hated leaving him, not knowing what was happening behind those doors, but this wasn't something she could easily avoid. She had been waiting for Heimdall to summon her for days now, and she was intrigued. Would he oust her to the king? Help her as he had before? It could go either way, she thought. Eventually, sheer curiosity was the force that moved her.

It took her a while to approach the main gate, as she did not hurry. The guard did not follow her as she had anticipated, and for that she was grateful. It made her believe momentarily that there was less of a chance that she was about to be detained for being an accomplice to high treason, but she couldn't be entirely certain.

As she walked along the Bifröst towards the Himinbjörg, she absentmindedly dragged her sword along the rainbow, leaving tiny sparks in her wake. She looked up at the skies; bright pink with blue swirls, still heavy with stars as the late morning approached. Asgard was beautiful. Sif had seen many realms and yet, they all paled in comparison to the one she called home. It briefly saddened her to think of leaving it - that her children would never know the same willow she grew up under, or the meadow where she first fell in love. Then again, she would be just as happy anywhere as long as they could all live together, safely and in peace - and although she held a love for Asgard, she knew Loki did not feel the same. Everywhere he looked were painful reminders of past events. So many painful reminders. Tormented, teased, tortured. Ignored. It was wrong to want to stay here. They needed to go somewhere new, some place fresh. The thought struck her, and her heart sank. Suddenly, it felt as if that place, wherever it may be, was an unattainable fantasy. Maybe it always was. However, just when she thought he was truly gone for good, he came back to her again. Maybe all hope wasn't completely lost. Maybe she _could_find Thor if she could find a way to leave the realm. _Information that would have been useful earlier, Loki, _she thought to herself.

She approached the tall, dark figure waiting steadfast before her in front of the great observatory. Although Heimdall was intimidating, he was still one of her oldest friends and certainly the wisest. He was neither a villain nor her enemy. He was the all-knowing protector of the realm and guardian of the Bifröst. Anyone wishing to exit or enter Asgard's walls would have to go through him first, and she was no exception. No one had been able to break past him in ages except for Malekith and, thanks to Loki, Laufey and his band of frost giants. The God of Mischief was certainly the master of finding his way between worlds without the help of the gatekeeper, much to the dismay of Heimdall, who was by no means Loki's biggest fan to begin with.

"Come in, Lady Sif," he spoke firmly yet with that subtle hint of kindness she always heard in his voice.

"Heimdall," she nodded, entering the Himinbjörg. She wasn't nervous. If Heimdall had any plans to turn her in, he would have done so. She didn't realize why she was here. He wasn't the type to give sentimental advice, and suddenly, she was afraid that was about to change.

"Fandral and Volstagg have been worried about your state as of late," he said, walking over to where she sat down on the stone steps before the exit from Asgard. He sat down beside her and the two stared out into the vast expanse of the universe. Sif didn't want to make small talk. Not now.

"Heimdall, let us not have this discussion," she spoke firmly but softly. She was not angry with him, but she had too much on her mind. "If you are to turn me for my deeds, than do so, I do not blame you. You have a duty as well as I. Please, I am fine."

"You're fine now," he sighed. "Now that Loki has come back from the dead."

"Is there something you wish to say to me? If not, I would like to be on my way."

Heimdall looked over at her, his eyes tired, his face sad. There was something deeply troubling him, but she knew not what.

"Lady Sif, I brought you here to inform you that you are to be dispatched on a solo mission to Midgard to retrieve Lorelei. I do not believe I need to explain the details as I am sure you have already been informed. The Allfather has chosen you specifically to take on the task at hand, mostly because you are a woman and immune to her enchantments. Do you accept?"

"I do," Sif nodded, without hesitation. This was it. This was the only way of finding Thor. She knew Loki would hate her for it, but if she didn't try, they were all as good as dead. "When do I depart?"

Heimdall looked at her. He knew. She didn't know how, as this wasn't Heimdall's strongest point. This knowledge, at least so early on, was exclusive to healers and seers. Magnus must have come, she thought; to protect her, to keep her from going without having to go directly to the king. But she knew Heimdall's primary loyalty was to Odin, and ultimately there was nothing he was going to do to stop her.

He sighed, shaking his head, his deep voice wavering as he spoke.

"You are to go… immediately."

* * *

Loki learned quickly that he was not being taken to his usual cell (or his "abode" as he fondly referred to it as). A handful of guards marched him down several flights of steps into a much darker, danker corridor in a lesser known part of the Asgardian prison. Loki silently laughed to himself in disbelief. How was it possible that he had not been placed here before? Odin continued to surprise him and as much as he hated to admit it, he was slightly impressed. Not even _he_ had been aware of such a dismal place.

As they ascended deeper, the heavy smell of death and decay began to take over. Loki quickly realized he was certainly not the first person to have the misfortune of being here, and probably wouldn't be the last. When they finally reached the bottom of the stairs they were forced to walk single file down an extremely narrow passageway, lit only by several barely lit torches lining the walls. Loki made out the lining of a heavy iron door in front of him, with a tiny window near the base for sliding food trays in and out.

"Not much of a vacation now, is it boys?" he laughed. To most Asgardians, being thrown in a cell this size with this much isolation would cause immediate panic to the strongest of men. But Loki had been through the depths of various hells throughout the universe. Surely, this was nothing by comparison.

"Get in," the guard in front of him ordered, pushing the door open. The room, to Loki's surprise, was actually quite large, though damp, dark and disgusting all the same. No windows, obviously. Nothing to sit on but a dirt floor. A single torch lay on the wall closest to the door, making it harder to see the other side of the room, but Loki made out the general size almost instantaneously. It certainly was awful, but nothing he couldn't handle.

Suddenly, and without warning, a heavy blow came to the back of Loki's head. Before he knew what was happening, everything slowly faded into darkness. He woke what seemed like moments later, but hours, days, could have easily passed. He was alone from what he could see, what he could barely see.

He was sitting crouched down in the corner of the room closest to the door, hands bound tightly in front of him, head bobbing down to his knees as consciousness tried to catch up with him. He winced at the sudden immense pain in his right side and laid his head back slowly against the wall. Clearly he had been beaten, and badly. One, two, three broken ribs, he counted in his head, judging by the pain. His mouth was numb, swollen even, and he quickly realized he was oddly having a difficult time breathing through it. As he started to come around more, his heavy eyes widened and for the first time, he felt panicked. Slowly, fearfully, he reached up, bringing his tied hands to his lips. There, he felt the familiar threads, the fresh punctures, the blood freshly dripping down his chin.

For the second time in Loki's life, someone had sewn his lips shut. Only this time, Thor, Sif and Frigga weren't around to help him, to cut the strings loose, to immediately bring him to a healer. The last time it had happened, he was young. The mystery assailant had also made it a point to carve MONSTER across his chest, clearly leaving him alone in the meadow to bleed out in such a state. The wounds were not ones he himself could heal, his magic useless against the threading. It was Thor who eventually found him wandering aimlessly through the brush and immediately summoned help, since Loki couldn't do so himself. Even now, Loki would wake up in the middle of the night sometimes, feeling his face and gasping for air. It was something he was never able to shake off, and was now having to traumatically relive. Alone.

Loki reached down to grab the shiny platter of food placed next to him, wiped the inedible scraps off and ripped the rest of his shirt which had already been torn to pieces. Shaking violently, he pulled the platter up and, using it as a makeshift mirror, turned it to face him. There, clearly carved across the center of his chest was the word MONSTER.

Screaming loudly, internally, as the sound would not properly come out, he threw the platter across the room, breathing heavily though his nose, tears pouring down his cheeks. Suddenly, his childhood memories, fears, wants, needs, flooded through him like a dam broken wide open. He felt vulnerable, exposed, afraid, afraid for Sif. Whoever had done this to him had clearly been watching him his whole life, someone who knew of his parentage long before he had, someone who had access to this cell at their leisure. Someone who had been there, right next to him, all along. Someone who could be planning the same for Sif, or worse. The answer was clear in hindsight, though it still surprisingly pained him to admit it. Still, he finally let himself believe what he had feared all along, and the unabashed anger seared through him, the pain worse than any physical torment he could endure.

_Odin._


	16. Chapter 16 - Wake Up

A week had passed since Sif had been dispatched to retrieve Lorelei. She had no news of Loki, other than his trial was to be in a week, and her nerves were starting to get the better of her. It took what little strength she had not to break down every barrier in the palace to see him, but she remembered his advice to lay low and agreed, as difficult as it was. Her mission to Midgard had been successful – Lorelei was back behind bars. Unfortunately, her secret plan to make contact with Thor was less successful.

With the help of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Agent Coulson, Sif was able to send word to Thor via post, explaining the entire situation at hand while still being as cryptic as possible in case of interception. Coulson explained that they could contact him sooner by way of more advanced technology (he bragged momentarily about having Jane Foster on speed dial), but Sif was seeking a more discreet method. Coulson originally didn't want Sif contacting Thor, but since he needed her to contain the threat of Lorelei (which she could have easily taken her time with), the two reached an amicable bargain. Since Heimdall was keeping a close watch on what she was doing, she knew she wouldn't be able to casually show up at Jane's flat requesting Thor's presence. She was on a specific mission from Odin; any unauthorized plans made without permission could result in her immediate expulsion from Asgard. Then what use would she be?

Coulson explained the post could take several days or more before reaching its destination, and sometimes, without warning, it never did. Certainly, if he were to receive the letter, by now he would have. What if he didn't come? What if he was too angry with the both of them to even care anymore? What if the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent was untrustworthy and she was duped into sending a letter that was never to be received? She tried hard not to think of such things; all she could do now was continue to wait - even if waiting was never her strong suit.

As she lay in bed, watching the moons rise into the night, she felt beside her for the man that was not there. She had been relying on various tinctures given to her by Magnus to calm her, to get her through the days and nights without him, to be strong for the little ones growing inside of her, but there was nothing strong enough to fill the void she felt with him not there. She knew he was alive, being kept in the same cell as before; nothing overly desolate or confining, but it didn't stop her from missing the feeling of his skin against hers. She wondered what he was currently doing. Probably having a laugh at the expense of a guard, or maybe had his head buried deep in one of his books. The thought made her smile. Little did she know, his experience in the dungeons was much different this time around.

In the past week, a small bump had started to form in her lower abdomen. Æsir pregnancies lasted a little over 1/9th of the Midgardian length, meaning that Sif was to be a mother in about a month's time, more or less. She knew she wouldn't be able to keep her figure hidden for long, and that her situation was quickly growing dire. If Odin knew of her state, that she had been an accomplice to treason, she would certainly be thrown in the dungeons without a thought. Eventually she would go on trial as well and be sentenced to the same fate as Loki, regardless of her situation. She knew he had gotten himself out of countless sticky situations, but somehow felt this time would be different. Odin wouldn't go easy on him. Or her.

Suddenly feeling more afraid for her, Loki and their unborn children, Sif pulled the covers up tightly around her, holding her stomach beneath the sheets.

"I promise…," she whispered sternly, looking down at her bump, blinking back tears that were threatening to form. "I promise no harm will come to either of you. No matter what happens, you will be safe. All of us will be. "

* * *

That night, Sif dreamt that Frigga came to visit her in her chambers. As she approached her bedside, she knelt down to the floor, taking Sif's hand in hers. She told her how proud she was to have her as a daughter now; how fiercely Loki had loved her for so long and how excited she was that Sif was to bear her grandchildren.

Suddenly, Frigga turned as if she had sensed something coming, something dangerous behind her. Her face was fearful as she turned back to Sif. She opened her mouth as if to warn her of impending danger, but before the words could come out a strong gust of cold air came bursting through the open window and her expression froze. It was as if Frigga's whole body had instantly been turned to cold stone. From behind her in the shadows appeared a menacing figure cloaked all in black; piercing blue eyes glowering at Sif.

"Who- who are you?" Sif asked, peering into the darkness, looking horror struck between Frigga and the unwelcome guest. She reached for her knife on the bedside table, but the creature only looked on in amusement and laughed.

"Do not be afraid child, _you_ are not what I seek," whispered the being eerily.

"Then I suggest you release the queen and be on your way," Sif responded plainly, her anger and fear growing with each passing second. Her knuckles clenched tightly around the weapon, though deep down she knew the blade would be useless against the creature before her.

The being laughed again, crossing the dark room disconcertingly until she was standing behind Frigga, who was as still as a statue. Sif could not speak as she watched the figure remove its hood. A ghastly woman, with a pale, gaunt face, icy blue eyes, and straw-like locks of blonde hair barely covering her balding head, bowed before Sif.

"Freyja… you're Freyja," Sif covered her mouth quickly, stifling a scream. She knew well of the Vanir witch and her disturbing prophecies."What do you want from me?"

"Lady Sif, what I want is quite simple," the woman croaked, her cold, beady eyes wandering from Sif's face to her stomach. "I want what is mine."

Sif's heart lurched in her chest as she realized, for whatever reason, the witch had not come for her, but for her children. "I will kill you first. Loki will kill you if I fail."

Freyja boomed with laughter. "Why does everyone believe that I am so easy to kill? Have I been that far off my game this entire time? Besides, it doesn't look like the God of Mischief is entirely on his game either these days… rotting away in chains in the deepest depths of the dungeons… his magic rendered useless… his spirit fading with every passing hour…"

Suddenly, Freyja conjured a foggy green orb out of thin air and deep within the globe Sif could clearly see Loki, slumped to the ground in a rather dark and odd looking cell. His eyes were swollen and closed, his head hung dejectedly, and, to Sif's greater horror, his mouth was sewn shut, crusted over with dried blood. Clearly, he had been like this for a while.

Sif suddenly leapt from the bed and ran to face the witch. She was no longer afraid, but seething at the sight of Loki in such familiar pain and despair. "It was you – all along, it was YOU. YOU TORTURED HIM! YOU TORTURED A CHILD! WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO DESERVE SUCH PAIN? WHY HAVE YOU DONE THIS?"

"HE STOLE MY LIFE FROM ME! Years ago, I had fallen in love with a great warrior, the _greatest_ warrior, and there was a time, however fleeting, that he loved me too… but another maiden crossed his path and suddenly, I was of no more importance to him…," Freyja spat as her eyes quickly flickered to Frigga.

Sif suddenly realized. "Odin. You loved… Odin."

"Very good, you're not as daft as you look. Yes, I loved Odin," the witch turned to look out the window, her abysmal profile outlined by the moonlight. "I watched for years at court as they flirted and gallivanted about the kingdom happily after their marriage. It was sickening. Then they had Thor. For several years after his birth, they fought constantly and for a time there were rumors that they were falling apart. Then Loki came along, and everything changed. I never saw them so happy before. He breathed a new life into them… a love unlike anything I had ever seen..."

"_Odin?_ Love Loki? The only reason Odin wanted Loki was to keep the frost giants at bay!"

"You are all fools. I have known the king a very long time, and I have never seen him so happy than he was when they decided to take in that monstrosity. Why do you think he falls into the Odinsleep so frequently these days? He cares too much, I'm afraid. Loki was never going to be anything other than a nuisance. He will be the death of the king."

"You're wrong. He is no longer under the influence of Thanos. He is a good man. He loves me. And I love him. I have always loved him. What sort of monster has the capacity to love someone _so_ much? You have tortured him for no reason... all these years... you have been the haunting shadow, always behind him. All because of some tryst you had with someone who was never to be yours. Odin will never love you, not even with Frigga gone, and especially not now if all you say is true. What could you possibly gain by taking two harmless children?"

"Everything."

Sif looked at the witch with a mixture of confusion and utter contempt.

"There is a prophecy… ," Freyja continued, slowly pacing back and forth. "… a prophecy that has never come to be, at least, not until the two of you converged. If a frost giant bears two sons, twins, with an Asgardian goddess, an Æsir, their blood will be so sacred, so powerful, that I will be far from the only one seeking it. The Tesseract, the Aether. Nothing compared to what I could do spilling the blood of those two innocents. I will restore my beauty, my youth. I will become more powerful than Odin, more powerful than any being in the nine realms. And once I have it… it cannot be taken from me."

Suddenly, Frigga sprung quickly back into life, conjuring a scepter out of thin air and pressed it to the witch's throat. Sif noticed the Eolh symbol, the same mark on the protective rune Magnus had given her, carved into the side of the scepter.

"You may come here for what you seek, but it shall never be yours. Be gone!"

With that, as quickly as she had come, Freyja disappeared, cowering back into the shadows, holding her neck as if she had been injured by the staff.

Frigga turned to Sif, grabbing hold of her shoulders as she did.

"The prophecy is true, but do not be afraid. You must know this. Freyja will not stop until she has your children. She has lied to Loki, telling him that the frost giants will come for you and for them, and the only way to stop them is for Loki to die or return or for your children to take his place. These are lies. She wants him dead, or far enough away from you so that you will have little protection. The frost giants have no interest in bringing Loki back to Jötunheim, or any kin of Loki's for that matter. But if they learn of the prophecy and of your state, if anyone does, you will find more than frost giants at the gates of Asgard."

Before Sif had any time to ask how Freyja was to be defeated, Frigga continued, touching the rune around Sif's neck. "Hold on to this, keep it on, wherever you are, wherever you go. This will keep you safe, for now. Wake up, my darling girl. Wake up now. You must go to him. You will be safe. You have company..."

Sif sat straight up in her bed, her room looking exactly the same as it was in the dream, only no Frigga, and no Freyja. The moon shone brightly through the window and a heavy breeze flowed from the outside. Sif shivered though sweat was pouring down her face. She lit a candle on her bedside table and sat a minute, holding the rune closely to her chest, looking around the room for any movement.

After contemplating what had just happened, Sif quickly ran over and began getting dressed, fully preparing herself to do whatever she had to get Loki out of his current situation. There would be no more waiting around. Freyja would soon kill him, for sure.

"I have company?" she whispered confusedly, suddenly remembering Frigga's last words to her.

With that, a light knock came upon the door, making Sif jump where she stood. Grabbing the closest glaive, she creaked open the door, brandishing the weapon in front of the stranger to make her threat known. To her horror, a tall, unidentifiable hooded figure stood before her.

"What do you want?" she whispered through the crack, eyeing the figure closely. "Who are you?"

The figure reached up, hesitantly removing its hood.

Sif gasped, immediately dropping her weapon to the ground.

It was Thor.


	17. Chapter 17 Traitors in the House of Odin

"Is it… is it really you?" Sif whispered, furrowing her brows as she tried hard to comprehend the presence of the man before her. Was she still dreaming?

"It is me, Lady Sif," he nodded, half smiling down at his old friend. "May I enter?"

Sif flung the rest of the door open so hard, it hit the wall and bounced off with a resounding crash. She quickly pulled him into her room, flinging her arms around his neck. She embraced him so fiercely he began to gasp slightly for air between laughs. She did not know how he had gotten through Heimdall's observatory without the Allfather encroaching on them by now, but she did not care. There was no time for explanations.

"I received your letter," he winced, spitting out words as best as he could with her arms slightly choking him. "I came as soon as I was able."

"I am most happy to see you," she panted looking up into his sad, worn out gaze. "I know- I know you thought he was dead, we all did…," Sif said, beginning to feel faint from all that was happening. She steadied herself momentarily, holding on to his arms for comfort, for rest.

Seeing Thor again was both a relief and sadness so profound; she knew she was no longer to bear this burden alone, but she was all too aware of the pain and confusion he felt. Thor had been there when Loki had feigned his death. He held his brother in what he thought were their last moments together, and he was never the same after. She knew, although he kept it well to himself, that one of the main reasons he couldn't stay in Asgard was because of Loki. There was too much sadness, and too much anger towards his father for keeping both him and his brother in the dark all these years in regards to Loki's true origins. His brother had turned against him so quickly after learning the truth, and though it hurt Thor deeply, he never blamed him. He didn't expect Loki to believe him when his own mother and father had lied to him. Sadly, it was a lie they both believed.

"Sif, you are safe," he said softly, smoothing back her hair. He held her away from him at arm's length, looked down at her small bump and smiled. His blue eyes beamed, though he looked tired. "I am to be an uncle then. You two… after all this time…"

"I love him, Thor."

"Aye, I know. And he loves you, Sif. Despite what he is and what he has done, he loves you. He always has," Thor nodded solemnly at her. "He is still my brother and even though he has betrayed me, he still helped save the woman I love. You must know that I would have come back regardless, for your sake alone."

"I know, and I thank you for it," she gasped, finding the strength to pull herself together at the thought of Loki in that awful cell. "We have to go – now. We cannot wait. I'll explain on the way."

* * *

"FREYJA?" Thor boomed loudly as Sif continued to enlighten him on the situation at hand. He angrily stopped in his tracks as they walked down the narrow corridor towards the cell, his voice echoing loudly off the walls. "IT WAS THAT TRAITOROUS WITCH ALL ALONG?"

"Hush now, keep your voice down," Sif pleaded as they approached the door. It was a miracle they were able to slip past the guards as easily as they had, and she didn't want to spoil it now. She too felt her anger boiling over at the thought of Freyja, but she had to hold it together. Loki needed her now.

"I should have known," Thor's voice began to go quiet, and Sif looked over at him to see the anger in his eyes melt away into sadness. "We were always playing by that wretched forest where she would taunt us from time to time."

"Stop it. You didn't know. You would have stopped it. We all would have. If your mother couldn't see that it was her, none of us would have."

"When father hears of this-"

"Not now, Thor…"

"I should have been there for him," he said, solemnly shaking his head in disbelief. "I should have known that there was more to all of this. That last time this happened, it was an isolated incident, but that was no excuse to stop searching for the culprit. And now you are all in grave danger for it."

"Thor, listen to me," Sif replied sternly, turning to face him. "This isn't the time. We need to get him out of here. I know the guilt, I know it all too well. But what happened already happened. It's in the past. We still have the chance to help him now, and I- I need him," she swallowed, her voice cracking at those last words. "Besides, according to this prophecy we are in grave danger, Freyja or no Freyja."

Thor looked like he had been hit with his own hammer, but Sif could waste no more time comforting his futile remorse. She turned and placed her torch momentarily in a nearby wall bracket as they approached the cell. She fumbled for a minute with the keys they had swiped from the main guard (who was either sleeping or had far too much mead – of that they couldn't tell), but her efforts were in vain.

"Damn these things," she whispered, quickly losing her patience. None of the keys seemed to fit no matter how hard she tried to force them.

"Allow me," Thor said, stepping in front of her without further thought. Somehow, when she saw the look on his face, she knew any further requests for him to keep quiet were fruitless. From underneath his billowing red cloak came Mj_ö_lnir, and before she could open her mouth, the door to the cell was blasted through, leaving shards of stone in its wake.

Sif closed her eyes as she entered, taking a moment to mentally try and prepare herself, but no amount of preparation could make her ready for what she was about to witness. As the dust settled, there, in a far corner of the cell, was Loki, chained to the wall and hunched over. From what she could make out with the light of Thor's torch, one eye was completely bruised and swollen shut, the other closed. His long, unruly hair was partially stuck to the side of his face with bits of dried blood and his mouth was still sewn shut. His shirt was torn, the word MONSTER barely legible as ample amounts of blood had been smeared over it. If it hadn't been for the rise and fall of his chest, Sif would have thought him dead already.

"_Oh, my love_…," she gasped breathlessly, dropping to her knees in front of him, fumbling for the key to release his wrists from their bindings. As she freed him, she gingerly stroked the right side of his face with her, rubbing his wrists with her left hand. Still, there was no movement from him. Sif turned to face Thor who was still standing by the remains of the entrance to the cell. He looked sick. They were both reliving one of their very worst childhood memories.

"Hand me the flask," she demanded, tears streaming down her face. She thought that by barking an order at him it would snap both of them out of their trauma. She pulled a tiny dagger from the left side of her cloak.

Thor stepped forward as he realized the daunting task she was about to undertake.

"Lady Sif, you are in no state to handle th-"

"No, I will do this," she said silently, holding up her hand at him to silence any more protesting. She was shaking. The cell was suddenly so silent, the only sounds she could hear was the pounding of her heartbeat . "I was going to try to rouse him to consciousness, but… perhaps it's better if I do it now…"

Thor stepped closer to her, kneeling down by her side and handed her the flask of grain alcohol she had requested he grab before they left her chambers.

Retrieving a clean rag she had tucked into the other pocket of her cloak, she moistened the cloth with a few drops and began wiping her blade with it. She wouldn't bother to use the alcohol to clean his wounds – it would only pain him, and right now, she didn't know how much more he could handle. She took the cloak from her back and wrapped it around him, trying hard to cover the bare skin across his chest. The cell was bloody freezing, but Thor thought better of mentioning the fact that Loki was, in fact, a frost giant.

Thor took off his cape and draped it over Sif's back. He knew there was no use arguing with her about who should do this, as once her mind was made up that was it. They probably should have taken him immediately to a healer, but both him and Sif silently agreed that his mouth would not stay sewn shut another minute, for if he awoke, the fear in his eyes would be too much for them to bear.

"Hold the torch closer," she swallowed, trying hard to focus on the task at hand rather than stare at the man she loved who had been driven to an unconscious state from sheer agony.

_One, two, three, four, five, six… six X's… _Sif counted in her head. The blood was crusted across his lips, and she could barely tell where his mouth ended and the stitches began.

Nervously, she slipped the tiny blade underneath one sewn cross and pulled gently in a sawing motion towards her, cupping his jaw with her free hand for support. One down, five to go.

Loki slightly stirred and moaned, but didn't wake. She sighed with relief, as did Thor. She hadn't hurt him it seemed, and it would only get easier to do once more were out of the way.

Once she had narrowed the stitches down to two, Loki's brows began to furrow, and his moans grew slightly louder and more prevalent. Thor had to hold Sif from shaking.

Suddenly, the eye that was not swollen flung open and stared blankly ahead in sheer terror. It was as if he couldn't see Thor or Sif directly in front of him and was looking at something that wasn't there. He looked like he was still very much in the middle of a horrific nightmare, fearful of something they could not see while gasping desperately for air.

"Darling," Sif gasped, nearly dropping the knife, but Thor held onto her arm still so as to steady it. He was in as much shock as she was, his chest tightening as he looked into the conscious face of his brother; a sight he was certain he would never see again.

"Loki, I need to finish," Sif said sternly yet apologetically, crying openly as she reached to stroke the side of his cheek. He flinched. She pushed back his hair, trying desperately to hold his face steady against the wall. "We need to get you to Magnus. I can't pull these out, but I can cut the rest of them."

Loki shook violently as tears began streaming down his face at the sound of Sif. His eyes followed her voice and he finally found her gaze. The relief in his face was apparent. His hand moved shakily, slowly to touch her knee and as he felt her warmth beneath his fingertips, his eyes closed and he half smiled. He looked as if he was silently thanking the Gods.

"Two more. That's all. Let me finish," she croaked authoritatively, unable to take much more of seeing him like this, unable to keep her hands off of him. He nodded dreamily, his eyes still closed as she quickly, painlessly cut the final two stitches loose.

As soon as she finished the job, she threw her dagger to the side and forced her lips upon his, thread and crusted blood be damned. He winced slightly at the weight of her against his broken bones and open wounds, but the feel of her soft, warm flesh against his cold skin was too good.

"Darling, say something to me," she demanded as she broke away from his lips, her tears falling one by one onto his chest. "I need to hear your voice."

He weakly reached up and cupped her face with his hands. He ran his fingers through her hair and pulled gently down on the locks, forcing her to look up at him.

"Freyja - she made me believe you were gone-," he whispered, his face stern, his unscathed eye filled to the brim with tears.

"Freyja is a liar." Sif cooed, brushing the strands of hair away from his face. "I am here now."

"I thought it was Odin. But she came to me, here, in my cell. She told me everything. She showed me an image of you and I thought... I thought you were dead."

"An awful feeling, no doubt," Thor spoke suddenly, bringing the two of them back to reality. Loki hadn't noticed anything other than Sif until this very moment, and his grip on her tightened protectively at the sudden sound of another voice in the room.

As Loki looked up at Thor, he couldn't help but feel ashamed. He knew it wasn't the proper time for a lengthy discussion about how wrong he had been, but the look he gave his brother had to be enough for now.

Sif brushed Loki's face once more and slowly stood, reminding the two of them that it was imperative they left immediately. Guards would soon be coming, and they still had such a long way to walk to reach Magnus. She thought that now that they had Thor with them Odin was more likely to listen to their story, but she still didn't want to bother with his soldiers at such a late hour. Not when Sif so desperately wanted Loki to be healed sooner rather than later.

"Help me stand, you big oaf," Loki spoke, regaining some of his cockiness. "You're not going to let the lady keep doing all the work now, are you?"

"Don't make me break your other set of ribs," Thor muttered angrily as he hoisted his brother cautiously off the ground. Once it was abundantly clear that Loki could not walk on his own, Thor kept one of his arms around his brother's waist and let him lean against him with his arm around his neck.

"Why didn't you use magic to relive your pain?" Sif suddenly asked him curiously. She knew all of Odin's cells were enchanted so that no one could escape, but Loki was still able to use magic in his previous cell. Then again, this wasn't anything like his previous cell.

"Ah, my love," he winced as he took his first few steps. "It doesn't appear magic works within these walls."

Sif walked over to him, making sure he was situated properly and in the least amount of pain then turned to lead the way out of the cell. She smiled briefly to herself at the sight of the two men behind her.

"Besides," Loki continued after a short, silent while. "I've never been the best at healing."

"Oh, you mean like the time I broke my leg during combat training and you turned my foot into pure iron?" Thor mocked him, trying hard to hide the smile that forced its way out at the thought of that particular memory.

Loki couldn't help but laugh (even though it was quite painful), especially after hearing Sif's contagious giggles ahead of them.

After a few minutes of silence had passed, a strong feeling of sadness and remorse swept over Loki as he looked at Sif. Beautiful Sif, with a heart of gold. He thought he had lost her, lost everything. He would never tell her that in the moments before she found him he had found himself in a deep sleep that he was hoping never to awaken from. Suddenly, he knew a part of what Thor had been feeling and turned to him, trying to offer any sort of kind words that he could muster towards his brother.

"Father will be proud of you," was the only thing that came out, and it didn't even come out properly.

Thor stopped momentarily and turned to face his brother.

"I didn't do it for him."


	18. Chapter 18 - Saved

First of all, this has, once again, taken way too long to update. Lots of personal health crap going on, but I WILL say that unless I get significantly sicker and/or am dead, it will never be this long again. I love writing this fic, and have tons of ideas for it, and want nothing more than to finish it (in good time) so you can look forward to more (if anyone is still following)!

Also, important notes: I went back, did some editing, and replaced bad dude Fandral with Balder instead. I just didn't like the idea of Fandral being a bad guy, didn't make sense to me. It isn't important to the story. I wouldn't change anything detrimental, but I just wanted to let y'all know.

Happy reading, and thanks for all of the support!

**Warning: Explicit Sexual Content**

* * *

The three silently made their way through the dungeons and back up to the main halls. It was a miracle they had been able to slip past the guards again, Sif thought to herself, and she was certain Loki and Thor were both conscientious of that same fact. It was, however, even more of a miracle that Odin himself had not tried to stop them or at the very least, Heimdall. Something was wrong. Asgard was too quiet.

By the time they reached the healer, Loki had deteriorated both physically and mentally. He had become so weak from walking that Thor nearly had to carry him for the last half of their journey, much to his incessant protesting. They brought him over to a cot in the far left corner of the main room, a large area where Magnus both practiced his profession and cooked his meals. There was a roaring fireplace on the right wall with a large pot hanging over the blaze and a sizable stone table just to the left of it. On top of the table was a pitcher full of water alongside thick slices of fresh bread and stew; it was clear he had planned on having company.

On the opposite side of the room, dark wooden bureaus and shelves full of various potions lined the walls. Sif shivered as she stood next to the fire, dropping her weaponry and hugging her chest as she watched the two men hover over Loki's weak form. Thor stared down intently, his eyes darting quickly back and forth between his brother and the old man. Magnus moved fast to heal Loki's superficial cuts, but warned his ribs would take longer to fully mend. His mental status was another matter entirely.

Thor sat down next to the table while Sif moved to sit beside Loki, teetering on the edge of insanity as she watched his face painfully distort at the medicine being applied. After a few minutes of nothing encouraging happening, she began to panic, but visibly relaxed once she saw the wounds begin to rapidly close and heal. Loki's writhing and sharp gasps had finally ceased, and before long, his hand still in hers, he fell into a light sleep.

She watched over him for a short while before reluctantly making her way over to join the two men at the table. She began the daunting task of explaining to Magnus about Freyja, her dream, and the awful state they found Loki in. She occasionally glanced up at the old man who was nodding, deep in thought. When they were finished discussing the problems at hand, he quietly got up and began fixing plates of stew for his guests.

"It isn't much," Magnus said, filling her plate to the brim with food. "I had a feeling you'd come, and I'm afraid this is all I could conjure last minute."

"It's fine, Magnus, thank you," Sif whispered gratefully while Thor nodded in agreement. She forced down the meal, trying hard not to be obvious as she did so. She felt very much like throwing up. It wasn't that it didn't taste good; she simply didn't have much of an appetite. The sight of finding Loki was still very much reeling in her mind and she had to conscientiously make an effort not to lose control of her stomach.

"How did you know we were coming?" Thor suddenly inquired suspiciously. He did not know Magnus well, but Sif apparently seemed to trust him entirely which, normally, was good enough for him. However, he still felt the need to ask.

"There is something dark stirring in the air tonight. I had a premonition you were in trouble, and I seem to be correct. "

"How is it that no one has captured us by now?" Sif whispered, her eyes narrowing in confusion. "The entire kingdom is far too quiet. You would think, Heimdall would…"

"Indeed," Magnus interrupted, his face exceedingly worried. "There is something terribly wrong. What that is exactly has yet to be seen. By now we know for certain that Freyja has penetrated the walls of the palace. Even though there is a strong cloaking enchantment surrounding us, I'm afraid if she wanted to find us, nothing would stop her. I daresay she let you three escape from that cell on purpose."

Sif shivered. She turned back towards Loki, fearfully watching him closely to make sure his breathing was still steady. She relaxed once she saw he looked peaceful and turned back to Magnus.

"Were you aware such a prophecy existed?" she blurted out, hoping that he didn't.

Magnus sighed before continuing. "The prophecy is true, I'm afraid. I've been aware of its existence."

"Why did you not inform me of it?"

"My dear girl," Magnus replied, his voice heavy with sadness. "I did not know the prophecy was for certain with you specifically until now. I had a feeling Freyja had her hand in this all along, but not even I can foresee many impending events of the future. I did, however, give you that for protection, just in case," he pointed to the rune around her neck.

"What use is an old rune?" Thor asked irritably, his mouth stuffed to the brim with food. Sif shot him a look.

"It is not simply any old rune. A long time ago, Frigga came to own the Elhaz scepter, an ancient staff forged close to the dawn of time, its protective powers so great, not even those who retained the infinity gems would be able to harm whoever possessed it."

"The scepter from my dream," Sif's eyes widened, as Magnus nodded. Thor put down his fork, suddenly losing any further interest in his meal. "Where is it now?"

"Frigga had it split into several parts, just as the Allfather had the gems sent to all corners of the universe. Together, as one piece, it is too powerful. The scepter was able to be altered, but not entirely destroyed."

"But what has this to do with my rune?"

"Your rune was the smallest part of it."

Sif froze, her hands reaching up to grasp the stone around her neck.

"Where are the other pieces of the scepter? Does anyone else know of its existence?" Thor asked quietly.

"Of that, I'm afraid I cannot say for certain."

"What if we find the missing parts?" Sif inquired. "Will the scepter restore itself? Will we all gain lasting protection from it?"

"I do not know the answer to that either. If able to be restored, those closest to you will certainly be safe, I would assume. It holds great power, power that, if held in the wrong hands, could very well mean the end of the nine realms. Your mother was smart to separate it. I'm afraid though, that piece around your neck will keep only the wearer from harm."

"How was it that you came by this?" Sif whispered, lowering her voice.

"Your mother trusted me," he nodded to Thor, noticing his particular interest in the matter. "No one would suspect an old healer in possession of such a powerful relic. She wanted to keep a small part of it close by, knowing that it was safe with me until one of you might be in need of it or if... something were to happen to her."

Sif looked from the old man slowly back to Loki, noticing that he was now fully awake and listening in well on the conversation. He looked angry, and lost in in thought. A strong wave of sickness hit her once more. She wanted to forget the way she had seen him in the prison cell, but the disturbing images were still too fresh in her mind. Even though he already looked remarkably better, at least in the physical sense, it was doing nothing for her nerves.

Thor took notice of Sif's attention, and turned to notice Loki staring despondently at the ceiling. His eyes flickered from his brother to Magnus, and an alarming look came across his face. "Why does he not speak or jest?" Thor spoke, breaking the profound silence in the room.

Before Magnus or Sif had the chance to answer, the three watched as Loki feebly pushed himself up on the cot to lean against the wall, as if he had been abruptly snapped out of a reverie.

"Because," Loki croaked, turning his eyes darkly towards his brother while wincing. "His body is currently much like your brain. Full of holes."

Thor smiled, but Sif didn't laugh. She noticed Loki staring at her solemnly, his expression unreadable, and suddenly, she felt more afraid than she had been the entire time. She wasn't sure how much more he would be able to take, of anything; and maybe, just maybe, she was only a constant reminder of intense pain for him. His body was on the mend, but his mind, she wasn't sure of. Maybe once he was too far gone from her again, he would be lost forever.

Magnus left the room momentarily before rushing back in with several towels in his hands, breaking the intense gaze the two were locked in. "There is a bath of hot water in the back. You need to soak for a short while. The oils will continue to heal you. Rest your mind now."

Loki stared at the old man, clearly still thinking hard about something else. He nodded curtly at Magnus before standing and wrapping a sheet around his waist, taking off down the hall in a heated saunter, towels bunched in his right hand. Sif started after him, but thought better against it once she heard the door to the washroom slam.

"It is not your doing, Sif," Thor quickly interjected, noticing the look of disdain on her face, knowing well that she was taking the blame for his misery.

"Of course it is," she replied, folding her arms around herself and looking down at her stomach sadly. "He's doing all of this for me. For us. If it wasn't for any of this he would be better off. Freyja never would have tortured him."

"Yes she would have, and she did. Do not forget this," Thor pointed at her in sincerity. "You know as well as I do now that she has loathed him since he was brought to this realm as a child. She would have continued to plague him so long as he remained in Asgard, regardless of you being a part of his life. I must beg you to see this."

"He wanted to leave all of this. In the end, he did not want any of it. He was making preparations to leave the realm. He stayed because you left and the Allfather fell into the Odinsleep. He stayed as a promise to Frigga. He stayed because I- I did something stupid," Sif's hand quickly covered her mouth in an attempt to shut herself up. She could no longer hear the words, the painful words that plagued her with guilt, though true they were. He stayed because she was weak. Because she tried to take her life. Yes, he loved her, there was no doubt of that. But she was ultimately the reason why he stayed and the reason he now suffered.

Thor's head dropped at her statement. "You must realize that Loki's life did not begin until you made him aware of your true feelings. He now has something to live for. Before, he did not. He only had a reason to hate everything. Had I known he lived, I would have stayed, Sif. I would have tried to help him. No matter what he has done, no matter what he became, he is still my brother. he saved Jane, I would have seen to it that his life was not for the axe or even for a cell."

The three sat in silence for a while. No one made any attempt at lightening the heavy mood. Magnus quietly brewed a pot of tea, and Sif sipped it quietly, the strong essence of ginger placating the nausea she now felt. She looked down at the ring around her finger, and clenched her fist tightly. Maybe we were never meant for a happy ending, she thought. The Gods are angry with me.

"How are you feeling these days, Lady Sif?" Magnus suddenly asked, a bit more cheerfully. The implication that he was referring to her pregnancy was clear as he looked down at her tiny bump. It wasn't exactly lightening the mood, but the sweet smile on the old man's face warmed her momentarily.

"As well as I can feel, I believe, given the circumstances," she replied wearily, hearing the door to the washroom suddenly open and Loki's familiar footsteps down the hallway. She quickly wiped a stray tear from her cheek and her voice turned hushed, so as not to vex him any further. "It's hard to have much of an appetite, but I do try."

"If you are in need of more ginger root, all you must do is ask," the old man replied, looking over his spectacles at her.

"Thank you," she nodded sincerely. "Though I do wish ginger root would solve more than just my nausea."

"I vow," Thor suddenly learned forward in his chair toward Sif, looking rather serious while pointing a determined finger at her as though he had just made a very important decision. "No harm shall come to any of you. You needn't worry, good Lady Sif."

"Son of Odin," Loki's amused yet inherently dark voice suddenly came from behind them, making Sif jump even though she was well aware of his impending presence. The back of her chair faced him and she did not turn in his direction. "Always full of empty promises."

Thor took a moment before responding, resisting the urge to throw his brother from one end of the room to the other for the sake of Sif and her state. He still couldn't believe he was standing before him, back from the dead once more, but he wasn't about to let his sulkiness slide, despite what he had just been through. He was still furious at Loki; furious at him for a million reasons. "It's refreshing that your petulance is still intact, brother. I was beginning to think it was lost to us forever."

Loki ignored his remark and began walking around the perimeter of the room, deep in thought, still paying no mind to Sif where she sat. Magnus stood and began following him around, trying hard to get a closer look at the wounds. Loki shrugged him off several times, trying hard to reach some sort of deep conclusion in his troubled mind.

"Your highness, I must beseech you to rest, you are still quite unwell…," the old man begged him quietly, gesturing towards one of the empty chairs.

"Freyja," Loki said, mostly to himself, shaking his head. "How is it that she was able to fool me for so long…"

"She fooled us both," Thor replied resolutely, standing from his chair to offer it to his brother. "There is no use dwelling on it. Come now, you must sit."

Loki, once again, ignored the plea for him to rest, much to the growing annoyance of Sif. She knew he had just endured a hell she could never fully comprehend, but it didn't change the fact that he needed to calm down before he hurt himself even further.

"She will pay for what she has done," he said decidedly.

"Loki, sit down," Sif said calmly, without turning to face him still. When he ignored even her request, she began to feel her anger start to boil over.

"We will fix this," Thor promised. "Together, we will find a way to beat Freyja at her own game."

"Do not underestimate her," Loki warned, continuing to pace with a limp that Sif could hear. It weighed on her. She tapped her fingers impatiently against the chair, trying hard to will herself to calm down, but it was futile. "As reckless and impulsive and dreadful as she may be, she is still clever in her own right."

"Your highness, please sit-"

"I WILL NOT!"

"DAMNIT LOKI, SIT DOWN!" Sif screamed, suddenly silencing the room. She stood abruptly from her seat to finally look at him, holding onto the back of the chair for support. "YOU WILL BE NO USE TO ANYONE IF YOU ARE DEAD FROM EXHAUSTION!"

The room fell silent. Loki snapped out of his vengeful fog and turned to raise his eyebrows at her, suddenly realizing the impact of his frenzy. He looked entirely serious for a moment, quite worried about getting her so worked up in her state, but he quickly moved his hand to cover his mouth to hide the smile creeping he felt creeping across his face. He looked as though he were about to burst out laughing, which pissed her off even more.

She stared him down, her nostrils flaring as she breathed heavily through them. She watched as he leaned casually against the hall door frame, entirely naked except for a meager towel that barely covered his lower half, wanting to slap the smug look he now wore clear off of his face. His long, wet locks clung to his collarbone, sending beads of water down his bare chest that glistened in the warm glow of the fire light. He was beautiful and it was maddening.

He held out his hand for her to take, but she ignored it. She fetched the water pitcher instead and filled a mug, forcing it unfeelingly into his hands.

"You need to drink something," she muttered exasperatedly to him while avoiding his eyes, slightly embarrassed by the spectacle she was just responsible for.

"You need sleep," he whispered quietly, taking the glass from her and placing it on a nearby cabinet. His eyes warmed as he looked down at her and he brushed a stray hair away from her face, the light feel of his brief touch sending waves of undeniable happiness throughout her.

"There is a guest room directly across from the washroom," Magnus interrupted, making his way over to them. He pointed down the hallway and looked up at Sif, smiling as he did so. "The two of you should get some rest for a few hours. We can certainly keep an eye out."

Sif looked to Thor for further approval and he nodded encouragingly. She hated leaving the lot of them alone, especially when whatever was about to happen next was so uncertain, but she was exhausted. "You will be safe," he assured them.

"Magnus, I cannot ask you to continue helping us. You are putting yourself in grave peril," Sif said quietly, her eyes sad and apologetic.

"My dear," Magnus replied, patting her arm once more. "Alva would have wanted it. It is my honor."

* * *

The two said nothing to one another as they walked down the long corridor into the small, dimly lit room. It was quaint, with crooked bookshelves lining most of the walls; the dark, four-poster bed taking up much of the room to the left. Directly across from the entrance in the middle of the wall was a large, roaring fireplace; to the right, an untidy wooden desk and more shelves full of potions.

It was a cozy room, and Sif was suddenly even more grateful for Magnus. She was safe, for now, and all that mattered was that Loki was with her, though she still could hardly bring herself to look at him. She said nothing as she crossed the room to the far side of the bed and began taking off the rest of her heavy layers.

Loki's brow furrowed as he took note of her unrelenting iciness towards him. He walked slowly to the opposite side of the bed and leaned against the post, arms crossed, watching her intently. She was fully aware of his eyes on her as she stripped down to the tunic underneath her armor, but she kept her back to him. She pushed the loose sleeves up to her elbows and unpinned her hair, trying hard to make herself look as busy as possible while avoiding his gaze.

"Sif...," he whispered under his breath, not taking his focus off of her.

She turned toward him, slowly, her gaze catching his for a split second before her traveling to the site of his rib cage. He was significantly better than before, but the wounds still looked a little angry.

"Just a few more scars to add to the collection," he winked at her, smiling encouragingly when he noticed where her eyes lingered. "Nothing severe."

She smiled briefly at his attempt to placate her, but she was still shaken. He was remarkable. The man had suffered a great deal, repeatedly, and yet, no matter how awful the situation, he always played it off like it was just a simple nuisance; that he was always somehow above it all. His unwavering cockiness and ability to rebound was both a great comfort and a disturbance. She shook her head at him incredulously and crossed the room, sprawling the rest of her belongings onto the desk. As she did, she took note of one of the scars on her hand that she had been given by her father and laughed out loud at the sick irony.

"You know as well as I that the worst scars remain beneath the surface," was all she managed to say. She had meant to keep the sentiment to herself, locked up in her own troubled mind, but the thought came out before she could stop it.

"What is it?" he asked, clearly frustrated by her ambiguity.

Sif turned back around to him and leaned against the desk, her emotions rising quickly in her throat. She tried incredibly hard to get a hold of herself before she opened her mouth, but it was no use. "What she- what she did – to you was-," she stammered, tears quickly cascading down her cheeks. She hid her face in her hands, sobbing hard as she did, hoping that in covering herself she would magically disappear.

Loki walked over to where she stood and wrapped his arms gently around her, pulling her into his chest. He kissed the top of her head and smoothed rest of her hair back while rocking her back and forth as she cried. "A mere triviality compared to the torture you've put me through for years," he smirked, peeking down at her eyes for any sign of relief. It broke him to see her like this.

"Loki, please-"

"Listen to me," he spoke seriously, reaching up to trace her jawline with his fingertip. "I'm here now. And you're safe. Nothing will break us apart again."

"You've said so before," she said, trying to break away from him though he would not let her. "You cannot keep promising me that. Do not continue rendering your words meaningless."

"I can promise it," he said a little more sternly, lifting her chin up to look at him. He was losing patience. He needed her to see that everything was going to be alright, even if he didn't quite believe it himself. "Look at me."

Her eyes began to water once more, but she remained defiant. She would not look at him. The cuts and open wounds no longer plagued his skin, but every time she glanced in his direction all she could see was his lifeless body, battered and unconscious.

He frowned as he studied her disregard and moved in closer so that he was standing directly in front of her gaze, their lips inches apart. She would have no choice but to see him now.

"You are the sun; radiant and blinding in all your beauty," he reached down to grab her hand, pulling it up against his lips. "I am the shadows that have always hid from your light, dark and cowardly. You are all that is good and I am certainly all that is not. I will spend the rest of my days trying to deserve you, trying to satisfy you, failing miserably I'm sure. But, Sif, you must let me try. Let me try and protect you. Let me love you. Believe me. Believe in me."

She looked into his eyes, her heart beating rapidly at his words, wondering how it was that someone so broken could still be so optimistic; so unquestionably loving. Many would say that she would easily be the more loving one, the braver one in comparison to Loki, but how very wrong they would be. For she drew her strength from him now; strength to handle a fear that she was not well versed in. That fear was losing him. Again.

"Oh, Sif. I have missed your temper and your warmth more in these past days than all of my days knowing you combined," he continued, cupping her face with both of his hands, gently forcing her to look up at him while brushing her jaw with his thumbs. "I finally knew what it was like to have you, entirely, and then lose you. The physical torture was nothing compared to the idea that you, that they," he looked down at her stomach, his words barely audible. "were lost to me forever."

She wrapped her arms lightly around his neck, making sure not to hurt him as she did so. He brushed the rest of the tears from her face and smiled at her through his own watery eyes. "I was afraid, for a moment," she paused, clearing her throat at a desperate attempt to gather her emotions. "I was afraid that you were lost to me too."

"Ah, but you see my darling," he replied softly, tracing her lips with his finger, his eyes gazing deeply into hers. "I will always find my way back to you."

His warm breath hit her mouth, instantly stirring up a desire she had buried the past week they were apart. Pushing herself up slightly on her toes, she pressed her lips against his, feeling alive, feeling calm once more as his mouth began caressing hers. His hand moved up and slid back down her neck, his firm yet gentle grip on her skin sending strong waves of carnal need throughout her. She held herself back only momentarily before grasping a fist full of his hair, pulling him deeper into her. She waited impatiently for his mouth to open ever so slightly before thrusting her tongue inside, searching wildly for his own.

Her passion, her craving for him was unlike anything he had sensed from her before. As ridiculous as it sounded, she felt as though she would immediately cease to be if he didn't take her now, as she was. She dug her fingers into his back, pulling his hips forcefully against hers suggestively, already feeling the length of his cock growing against her. He smiled into her mouth at her wantonness and carefully pulled the tunic over her head while lifting her effortlessly onto the desk, leaving her legs dangling off the edge. He reached behind her to shove any remaining books onto the ground, his strong arms supporting her back as he carefully laid her down.

She loved how desired he made her feel as he stared down at her exposed body, his eyes wandering over every inch of her. He felt himself harden completely as he slid his hands up the front of her body to touch her breasts, moving to her upper chest and then to her neck. He wrapped a single hand around it, putting pressure ever so slightly before releasing his dominant grip and trailing his fingers slowly back down her torso to her thighs. Moving her legs apart with both hands, he knelt down between them and wasted no time placing his mouth between her folds.

Sif moaned as his long, gentle tongue entered her cunt, making a slow, torturous line from her entrance to her clit. He moaned at the intoxicating taste of her, pushing her legs further apart so as to enter her deeper. He glanced up menacingly, watching her face as he pleasured her, feeling his cock throb at the sight of her so wet and exposed to him. She felt her own slickness against his tongue as he leisurely circled the area, alternating between licking and sucking and taking her sensitive skin lightly between his teeth. She fidgeted as his long, cold fingertips teased her entrance, not at all prepared for the intense pleasure she was about to feel. As he slipped a single finger into her, his mouth not leaving her clit, she closed her eyes and gasped, arching her back up while opening her mouth, her expression almost pained, though he knew better. He loved how undone she came at his touch; loved the way she bit down on her lip as a second finger entered her, loved the way her nipples stiffened, just asking for his mouth to be around them.

Her fingertips reached down the desk toward him, and her eyes met his, begging for him to fill her aching need. He was a greedy man when it came to her. There was no part of her he didn't want to take his sweet time exploring, but his erection was beginning to pain him and his desire to feel her walls around him was urgent. He slowed his fervent actions, kissing her cunt once more before standing up and releasing the towel around his waist. She propped herself up on her elbows, her mouth watering at the desire to feel his massive erection at the back of her throat, but he immediately took hold of her throat and gently pushed her back down.

He reached around to grab a firm hold of her thighs and pulled her bottom to the edge of the desk, his hardness resting at her entrance. He stared down at her for a split second, his face unreadable, his expression almost dark. In one swift go, without much of a warning, he slammed into her, throwing his head back at the sensation of her tight, wet warmth wrapped around him. It was too good. Sif opened her mouth to scream with pleasure as his cock stretched her, but nothing came out. After a minute of trying to catch her breath, she managed to stifle a moan while digging her nails into the wood, using the leverage to grind harder and deeper against his cock, finding her own rhythm along with his. She opened her eyes lazily, noticing his eyes were closed, wondering where he was at the moment. She watched as his grave expression lightened, watched the pain and the worry leave his face as he fucked her, and in that moment, nothing could have given her greater pleasure. He was forgetting, even if only for a moment, and she was thankful.

She propped herself back up on her elbows and reached up, grabbing a hold of his shoulders, pulling his chest firmly down against hers. He sighed against her lips at every exquisite thrust while she snaked her fingers through his hair, tugging down hard on the locks. She wrapped her arms and legs carefully around him, still trying to be mindful of his wounds, but he scooped her up without a thought to them, cradling her carefully against him. He carried her over to the bed and she feigned submission for a moment as he crawled on top of her. Before he knew what was happening, she flipped over and pinned herself on top of him, making him laugh out loud as she did so. She smiled. There he is, she thought to herself.

She slid her hands up his chest and kissed his forehead, groaning to herself as she felt the stone of the necklace knock him on the cheek. He smiled up at her still.

Her hands flew to her neck, making as though she were about to rip it off. "I do not want this on me right n-"

"No," Loki said , his face suddenly grave, his hand quickly moving to hers to stop her from removing it. "No. It stays on. It always stays on."

She pushed a loose strand of hair away from his face to quickly distract him from his worry, laughing when he tried to bite a finger she trailed across his lips. She watched with secret delight at the change of his expression when she lowered herself back down onto him.

"Oh Sif," he cried, throwing his head back while gingerly grabbing onto her waist with both hands. She braced herself with her arms behind her on his thighs and rode him harder as he began thrusting his hips into hers, matching her fervency. He licked his finger and began working her clit once more, small moans escaping hers lips as he began bringing her closer to the edge.

He watched in awe as her form rocked against him, savoring the beautiful sound of her sighs, feeling nothing but her sweetness all around him. There was only her, and now and nothing else existed. As she moved against him, faster and faster, he felt his own climax quickly build and at the very moment of their unraveling, he let out an intense cry of relief and sat up to hold her just in time for her to collapse into his arms.

He found himself unable to will himself to move as he held her against his chest, feeling and hearing the intensity of her heart pounding. She buried her face in his neck and sank deeper against him, trying hard to fight the severe fatigue that had now completely taken over after her intense release. She was beyond exhausted, but she could still not bring herself to let go of him.

It wasn't until he heard her breathing get heavier that he realized she was so on the edge of sleep's hold. Pulling the sheets down with one hand while still holding her with another, he picked her up and placed her down upon the pillow, covering her with the blankets and climbing in next to her.

He laid on his side, watching her for a while, his hand gently caressing her stomach, noticing it had grown a bit since their last time together. He tried to leave her completely alone, knowing full that she needed sleep, but the moment was too beautiful to let go of yet. He didn't want to let go of her. Not now, not ever.

"Loki?" she would whisper every once in a while, ever so slightly, caught somewhere between sleep and awake. She would call for him, he would respond, and she wouldn't say anymore. Not until the very last time, just before he too was about to fall asleep.

"Loki?"

"Yes, my love?" he responded softly, obligingly, his eyes closed.

"Thank you... for saving me...," she said in between breaths, so quietly that he barely heard her.

He opened his eyes one last time to look at her, gently squeezing her hand that was still in his.

If only she realized, she had very much saved him.


End file.
